Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl
by Romania Black
Summary: Update: Set years after At World's End, Annabelle Dalton and William "Jameson" Turner are in Tortuga after escaping Singapore, and have encountered an old friend from their past, who else but Captain Jack? Enjoy the story!
1. Two Captains and a Secret

**Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl**

**by Romania Black**

_Hello everyone! I'm still reeling from how amazing Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End was! Didn't like some parts, but overall a great film! Anyway, I'm still trying to get one of my stories done, The Taming of the Saiyan, but I'm in a pirates kick, so this is the start of my new story! I hope you all like it! I'll try to have a few chapters out shortly to set the story up! _

_Enjoy the story!_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter One**

The murky black waters washed up against a small wooden dingy as it made its way to the edge through the bleak and ominous fog to the grand ship known as the _Red Eagle_. Gripping the edge of the small boat's wooden rail, and letting down the oars she'd used to row out to the magnificent ship, Elizabeth Swann leaned forward and braced herself for nudging the ship.

It had been eleven years since she'd heard of the infamous Captain Teague, keeper of the Code, and his ship, the _Red Eagle. _She'd never been aboard it, only heard rumors of what it was capable of, a fast ship with many powerful cannons and a knack for running up on ships carrying swag to be pilfered. While it was not as fast as the _Black Pearl_, nor was it the most powerful ship, the _Red Eagle_ was known for escaping battles and trifles with great ease.

Elizabeth was brushed by a small rope that had been lowered down to her. Gripping the rough surface, she started to hoist herself towards the top of the ship. Despite having been a little rusty at the "sailing" business, she was not inadequate. She was capable still; eleven years had aged her body slightly, her eyes forming the tiniest hints of crows feet, but her spirit and vigor were still as strong as ever.

Two pirates, one a peg-legged man with a graying beard, and the other a toothless balding sailor with a sagging face lifted her aboard the ship, each eyeing the fact that she was wearing a dress. Elizabeth tugged the hem of her black skirt down somewhat nervously as the pirates eyed her.

"Captain didn't say nothin' 'bout a woman," The graying bearded man spoke with a very slurred accent.

"Aye," The balding pirate nodded approvingly, gazing at her dress with a distinct hunger in his eyes, "Gots no complaints though," He said and reached for her. Before he could touch her, however, Elizabeth had already drawn the dagger from within the belt that slung on her waist, and had it at the pirate's neck.

"I am here to speak with Captain Teague and Captain Teague alone," She hissed fiercely in the pirate's ear, her eyes flaming, "Is that clear?"

"A--As a bell, miss," The balding pirates sputtered.

Elizabeth let the pirate go roughly and gave him a hateful look, as she slowly sheathed her knife. The two pirates looked at each other with obvious nervousness, and pointed her towards the captain's cabin.

Captain Teague stroked his long black beard as he slowly paced the quarters of his cabin. He occasionally eyed the half-full rum bottle on the table beside him, but never reached for it, one hand constantly stroking the beard, and the other holding himself up by gripping the top of a wooden chair to his right.

The Cabin was dimly lit, a constant yellow glow filling two corners of the room, so the cabin maintained an intimidating, yet oddly romantic glow. The doors to the cabin opened up loudly from the silence, and Teague's brown eyes, that had been focused on his beard, raised themselves to meet the window in front of him. In the glass' reflection, he saw the shape of a figure behind him.

"Captain Teague," the figure said with almost a defiant tone. The Captain smiled a wide grin of knowing, it was Elizabeth Swann.

"Captain Swann," Teague said as he turned around slowly, with a hint of a swagger that was always present in his son Jack's movement.

Elizabeth frowned, "You know I'm not a captain anymore."

Teague nodded, but it was not a nod of acceptance of her words, "You're still a pirate lord, so still a captain."

"So says you," Elizabeth said with a testy voice.

"So says the Code," Teague retorted, with a calm and serene voice, but the testiness did not need any help making its way back to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth frowned and came closer to him, "I did not leave my son and come all the way out here for nothing, Teague." She rounded the edge of the table, coming closer to the captain that did not move, but maintained his focus on her. "Why did you summon me here?" She asked, the testiness giving way to curiousity.

Teague turned from her, and smiled grimly, "This is a very intricate matter," He said, now reaching a hand towards the rum bottle, "One that requires complete anonymity and confidentiality."

"It's a secret?" She asked confused, letting her guard down.

Teague picked up the rum bottle and held it in front of him, "To you and many others."

"So what is it?" Elizabeth stared, her eyes narrowing, "You want me to keep a secret for you?"

The captain raised the bottle to his lips and took a swig, then paused, and looked at her, "So to speak, anyway. Can you do it?"

Elizabeth puffed her chest slightly, in pride. She didn't like being challenged, "Depends on what it is, Captain Teague. What's the matter in question?"

"Not _what_," Teague said with a dark playfullness, setting the bottle down, "_Who_."


	2. The Girl

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

by Romania Black

**Chapter Two**

A tall dark skinned pirate lifted a barnacle-covered oil lamp to his face, and slowly lit the murky liquid within it. The inside of the lantern sparked with a quick flame that illuminated the man's grisly, scarred face. He frowned as he hung it to a cane pole that was tied to the inside of a rickety dinghy. He stepped back and walked towards another pirate, a tanned man with red hair in a ponytail and a reddish-gray bandana. The pirate was staring down at a lump below him, the lump covered with a linen sheet. The red-haired pirate leaned down to the mass below him as the dark pirate watched him.

"Is it--" He began.

"Aye," The red haired pirate said quietly. He lifted the sheet slowly and drew a breath. Underneath the sheet was the face of a beautiful woman, her dark auburn hair in loose waves, the cold sweat on her brow causing her bangs to stick to her forehead. Her hazel-brown eyes were frozen open in an eerie way, the life and light in them drained, to where they were prone and empty. The pirate ran a dirty hand down her smooth, pale cheek to her neck and stopped. Beneath the sheet was a long slit and a gash that showed the trace of blood. She had had her neck slit; obviously causing her to bleed to death.

The dark pirate tsk-tsked, "Shame, it is," He said in a deep voice, lifting up her legs, as the red haired pirate gripped her waist and underarms.

"Aye, a fair beauty like her," He brushed a lock of her hair away from him as they lowere her and the linen sheet onto the boat. "Still, crew's wonderin' what the Captain's gonna do with the gir--"

"Hush!" The dark pirate glared, motioning towards behind the red haired pirate. The other pirate turned around to see what his colleague was motioning towards and his eyes widened. "What you want, girl?" The dark pirate asked in an intimidating tone.

"Can I not look upon my mother?" The girl asked in a grim but soft voice, as she came up to the pirates.

"Let her be," The red haired pirate frowned, gripping the dark pirate's hand. "Here comes the captain."

"Who?" Elizabeth stared as she followed Teague out of the cabin. "What do you mean 'who'?" Teague rolled his eyes at her impatience, and spun around aloof to face her. Elizabeth stopped in her tracks and stared at the Captain. "What's this about?" She whispered.

"I need someone to watch the girl for me, as I cannot keep her on this ship," Teague frowned, "But the girl is to be kept secret."

"Girl? What girl?" Elizabeth snapped, stunned.

"There," Teague pointed a finger ahead of her, to where two pirates were lowering something into a boat. Sure enough, there was a small figure standing beside them, in a sage green child's dress.

Elizabeth slowly looked towards the Captain incredulously, "You want me to babysit a girl for you?" She couldn't believe she was even saying it.

Teague glared, "No, I need you to take her away from here, to stay with you."

"You've got to be joking," She hissed, her eyes narrowing, "You brought me all the way out here to tell me that I need to--"

"--You've got no choice!" Teague hissed back, his black eyes widening in the form of a threat. Elizabeth cowered for a moment, she'd never seen him lash out before. "The girl," He said slower, regaining himself, "is extremely important," he paused and looked Elizabeth directly in the eye, "If kept alive."

"Why me?" Elizabeth said pleadingly, taking it all in. He wasn't telling her something.

"You're a pirate lord, so I know you're capable of keeping her safe," Teague explained nonchalantly, "Plus, I trust you," He paused and smirked, "more than others." He motioned Elizabeth towards the girl. "Are you up to the task?"

Elizabeth stared and realized that no was not going to be an answer to say in this case. "And I suppose you want me to house her, feed her, clothe her...all that?"

"All you have to do is keep an eye on her and make sure she has a home," Teague said explaining, "Nothing more."

She rolled over the options in her head; she supposed she didn't have a choice. "What choice do I have?" She sighed, and started walking towards the girl, as Teague maintained his position, letting her advance.

The girl was staring over the edge of the boat, where the two pirates were lowering the small dinghy containing the lantern and the woman covered in the linen sheet. She wore a sage green dress with creme lace sleeves, and her hair was in loose brunette waves, a small creme ribbon tied at the top of her head. Her face was lined with streaks from tear stains, and her eyes were red, which only made the color of her irises that much more intense. A glance showed that they were a brilliant sea green.

Elizabeth looked over the edge of the ship and saw what was in the dinghy, and her heart sank; it was obviously someone that had came with the girl.

"Family?" She asked quietly.

The girl gave Elizabeth a quick glance and then returned her gaze to the dinghy, "Mum," She said in a quivering voice, as if holding back a sob.

Elizabeth gave the girl a knowing nod; she too knew the loss of a parent. Had it really been eleven years since her father died?

"I know how you feel," Elizabeth offered kindly, "I lost my father."

The girl looked as if she was about to say something, but held it back. After a moment, she looked up at Elizabeth, "You're the one that they've sent to take me off the ship, aren't you?" She said, her eyes narrowing.

Elizabeth nodded, "The captain said you cannot stay on the ship."

The girl turned to look behind her, where, as if expected, Teague stood. The girl ran to the captain, who leaned down to meet her gaze. "It's not true," She protested, "Tell me it's not true."

"I told you that you couldn't stay on the ship," Teague said in a low voice. "You knew that." He pulled something out of his pocket; it was his green and purple paisly-printed bandana. The girl's eyes widened.

"That's yours!" She protested, as he tied it around her neck, making a small knot in the front.

"Needed a new one anyway," He smiled widely, "Besides..you can hold onto it for me. I trust you," He winked and stood up.

Elizabeth nudged the girl's shoulder, "Are you ready to go miss---" She suddenly realized she didn't know the girl's name.

"Annabelle," The girl said with a frown. "Annabelle Dalton."

"Yes, Miss Dalton," Elizabeth said, giving Teague a look, "Let's go so we can make good time back to shore."

Teague gripped Elizabeth's shoulders as the girl walked on towards the rope that led to Elizabeth's small boat. "Take care of her," he said grimly, his dark eyes meeting hers, as if to bore the thought into her.

"I will," Elizabeth said sternly, as he let go. "You have my word."

As the _Red Eagle_ started to sail away, Elizabeth rowed the dinghy, watching the girl intently. Annabelle was looking out to see, at her mother's small lantern light shrinking in the waves like the magnificent ship beside it.

"Don't worry," Elizabeth tried to console her. "Where we're going...you'll love it there." She tried to smile convincingly, but the girl did not look like she was buying it. Elizabeth tried to think of something to spark the girl's interest, "I...," She paused and then smiled, "I know someone who'll love to meet you."

Annabelle looked at her curiously, turning for the shrinking tide, "Who?"

"My son," Elizabeth smiled, "William. He'd love to meet a new friend."

The girl smiled faintly and turned her gaze back towards the sea, whispering his name softly to herself as Elizabeth rowed them towards the shore, as the sun slowly started to rise behind them, casting a pink glow on the sea and all around them.


	3. Homecoming

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_hello again! Just a quick note:_

_I intended this to be in the last chapter, but seeing as I wanted to get it to you as soon as possible, I excluded it. It's rather an important scene, as you'll see later on, but it's just a short add-on to the previous chapter. I hope you're enjoying the story so far!_

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Three**

As the pink ethereal glow settled in around them, Elizabeth continued to row the oars to their dinghy as they made it towards shore. The white foam of the waves washed up onto the small boat, and landed at Annabelle's feet, dampening the lower portion of her dress. This caused her to turn towards the shoreline.

Standing in dark brown trousers and a white ruffled shirt with a red cape tied to it stood a boy that seemed barely older than herself, with shoulder-length light brown hair, and large brown eyes that very much resembled the woman's beside her. He gave them a wide smile as the dinghy approached the beach.

"Is that your son?" Annabelle asked quietly, as if half in awe. Elizabeth grinned, it had seemed like so long since she'd seen his face, even though she well knew that it had only been a few hours. Elizabeth rarely let the boy out of her sight, and for good reason. He was as hard-headed as she was, but sensible. Like Will. She sighed; even though the boy shared his mother's eyes and hair, his nose, mouth, and everything else about him was his father's.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered quietly back, as the ship hit the soft sand. The bump jolted Annabelle, as Elizabeth rushed out of the dinghy as if it was second nature. "William!" She cried with an enthusiasm Annabelle hadn't seen before, as the woman rushed into her son's arms. The boy embraced his mother, smiling.

"How was your encounter with the pirates?" He asked with a strong accented voice. Annabelle stared at the pair.

"Good, good," Elizabeth said nonchalantly, dusting off her dress, still smiling. She seemed like an entirely different person than the woman on the ship moments ago, no longer sorrowed, but filled with happiness. Annabelle's mouth gaped slightly; it was as if the clouds had lifted the shadows from the ocean, and the sun had came in with a new freshness of life.

Noticing Annabelle as if for the first time, Elizabeth spun around and drew a hand out towards Annabelle, while taking her son into her arms. "This," She motioned, "Is Miss Dalton, William. She'll be staying here from now on." The finality of her tone caused Annabelle's face to fall, but she said nothing.

Young William gave the girl a warm smile, "Hullo, Miss Dalton," he said with enthusiasm, grasping her hand. There was a brief moment of contact, where her sea green irises met his black-brown ones, and they slowly pulled away; the boy still smiling, as the girl gave him a faint grin in return. Annabelle was about to say something, when Elizabeth nudged her shoulder, shifting her attention to the elder woman.

"Captain Teague gave me these," She held a small brown pouch in her hands, "He said they were for you," She said with a small frown, not knowing what they were.

Annabelle quickly swiped the satchel from Elizabeth's hands and opened it. Her eyes widened as she slowly lifted open the pouch so the contents were exposed to the reddish purple light of the sunrise. Gleaming in her child-like hand were two long strands of pearls, in between each pearl a small metal charm of somesort. Some were tiny starfish, some were metal seashells, some were iron seahorses, and occasionally in her hand, she felt the outline of a cool metal crab. Elizabeth saw the shine of the girl's eyes; the necklace was familiar. The girl, sensing the woman's stare, looked up at Elizabeth with bright eyes that were slightly moist. "Mum's." She whispered, rolling the pearls in her hand.

Elizabeth smiled, "They're beautiful," She said as Annabelle threw the pearls over her head and let them hang down her neck, where they fell at her stomach. She frowned annoyed, but Elizabeth smirked, "You'll grow into them." Not wanting to waste anymore time, Elizabeth turned away and started gathering rope from the dinghy and her other belongings. As she walked away, William turned toward Annabelle.

"You'll like it here," He smiled, watching the girl fiddle with the strands of pearls. "You'll see."

She gave him a doubtful glance, "I just want to go home," She said somberly, her eyes casting back to the necklace.

The boy tapped her shoulder with his hand before turning to follow his mother, "You're home now."

Annabelle gave him a discerning glance, but started to follow him up the shore. Elizabeth was considerably farther ahead than the two children, lugging rope and buckets in her arms. A woman in a frilly white servant's outfit appeared on the hill top above the beach, and called out to Elizabeth, who nodded her head in acknowledgement that she was noticed. The woman ran down the hill, her brown hair tied up in a bonnet, catching her volumptuous dress in her hands as she ran.

"Who's that?" Annabelle whispered to William, who smiled nonchalantly.

"Just Mia, the maid," He replied matter-of-factly.

"Mia?" Elizabeth asked with a smile, as the maid grabbed the rope from her arm.

"'Ello, Mrs. Turner," She said with a cockney accent, smiling as she struggled to get the rope onto her shoulders. "Beautiful mornin', eh?"

"Considering," Elizabeth said mysteriously, her eyes flickering for a second to the girl that was trailing a ways back with her son.

"Beggin' your pardon, Madame, but who's she?" Mia asked with a furrowed brow.

"Miss Dalton, our new resident at the moment."

"Is she," The maid hesitated, "Permanent?"

"We'll see," Elizabeth sighed, gripping the buckets better in her sweaty palms.

"I's just curious is all," The maid said with a slight cynical glance to Annabelle. "I saw you come in from that pirate ship earlier...she was aboard it wasn't she?"

Elizabeth smirked, "Well, she didn't pop out of the ocean if that's what you mean," She retorted slyly.

"Yes, well," The maid looked nervously at the girl, who was still out of range to hear them, "I don't care for the situation, Ma'am. If I may say so," she quickly added. Elizabeth gave her a curious glance.

"Why?" She said, almost snappy. "I was only told to watch her," Elizabeth said, divulging a little more than she usually would have to anyone else, but Mia had been the daughter of her father's most trusted servants at her old home, so she held Mia in high regard for her loyalty and trustworthiness. Besides, Mia would not know how to interpret anything Elizabeth told her. "Nothing more. She's hardly a threat."

"Watch her?" The maid eyed Elizabeth with concern. "From doing what?"

Mrs. Turner smiled, "Not from doing anything...just," She paused, trying to find the right words, "Just keep her safe...and secret," She turned and looked directly at Mia, who's face seemed a bit paler.

"Ah," The maid grimaced, "I was just curious. Pirates...they are a terrible lot."

"You have no idea," Elizabeth mused, her eyes scanning the horizon.

"Still," Mia continued, as if not hearing the woman beside her, "I don't fancy the idea of a pirate girl here in town, especially at our home. She could pose a danger to us all." Mia said, then sighed and continued walking. "And I personally don't want to see anymore deaths anytime soon in this family..." She carried on, no longer looking at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth had stopped cold in her tracks, now turning to glance at the girl.

_She could pose a danger to us all._

Her eyes found themselves implanted upon her young son William.

_I don't want to see anymore deaths anytime soon in this family..._

Elizabeth frowned, liking the promise she'd made Teague less and less by the second, and wishing Will was here now, to console her fears. But the only thing that could comfort her now was the sun beating down on her beige skin, and the warmth of the smile of her only son.


	4. For the Best

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hey everyone! Thanks to __**Katrina, Angel452, **__and __**Jedimaster**__ for the reviews! I'd like to receive a little feedback on the story and if you're liking it or not! I'd appreciate any comments or helpful hints! They're always welcome! _

_NOTE: To answer a few of your questions, __**Angel452**__, yes, Mia knows a little Elizabeth's past. Her mother worked in the Govenor's household. No, she doesn't know Elizabeth is the Pirate Lord, and frankly resents pirates altogether, but is very loyal to Elizabeth. She also doesn't know anything about MIss Dalton but doesn't trust her anyway. _

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Four**

The house was exceptionally nice; nothing fancier than royalty, but certainly not a shack. It reminded her somewhat of her home with her mother that they had lived in, and that thought alone made her hate it even more.

Annabelle scanned the white walls of the room she was in, as Elizabeth and Mia scanned through parchments on a table. Young William was sitting in one of the large tan armchairs beside Annabelle, analyzing a small rapier in his hands.

"Is it real?" The girl asked with a quiet calm voice, examining the blade in his outstretched hand.

"Of course," William smiled, "Gold filiger in the handle too. My dad gave it to me when he came to visit a year ago." He said matter-of-factly.

Annabelle cocked her head to the side, "A year ago?"

"William," Elizabeth called out, as if she could have heard the girl from a mile away, "Go outside and see who's at the door. Mia said there was a visitor." As the boy stood up and put the rapier back onto his leather belt, the girl's eyes and Elizabeth's locked. The girl was certain that Elizabeth had interupted her on purpose. With a frown, she sat down in the armchair and crossed her arms, not sure what to say or do. She was liking this place less and less.

"Here's a place," Mia said quietly, nudging Elizabeth's arm and placing a small piece of paper in front of her.

"It's a tavern," Elizabeth eyed Mia suspiciously, her face a stern frown. "I don't think she'd be the safest there."

"I know the owner," Mia said, her dark eyes scanning Elizabeth's. "She's a fair woman. Rough to look and speak to, but fair. She'd keep the girl safe, and she owes me a favor anyway."

Elizabeth smirked, "What favor does a tavern owner owe a maid?"

"Never you mind, Mrs. Turner," Mia said, her face a little redder than before. Elizabeth didn't inquire further, but she smiled and turned to Annabelle.

Annabelle crossed her arms tighter and made her face into a small pout, "Decided to invite me into the conversation?" She said in a quiet, but testy voice.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, "You have quite the little tongue, Miss Dalton." She said, half surprised, and half amused.

"I don't like being excluded," Annabelle retorted, her cheeks turning pink. "And I know you're talking about me, so I want to know what's going on," She demanded, uncrossing her arms and sitting up in the armchair straight.

"Ask and you shall receive," Elizabeth said with narrowed eyes. She gave Mia a quick look, "As much as I'd love to have you in this household with us," She paused and sighed slowly, wondering how to tell the girl, "It's not as safe as you may think." Elizabeth knew that there was a chance that pirates could find out where she lived and attack her. She was still a pirate lord after all.

The girl didn't say anything, but simply stared at her. She didn't understand what was going on, or why it wasn't safe here. This house looked safe enough to her.

"It would be safer if you were somewhere where you could not be traced to this place," Elizabeth motioned to Mia and she stood still as Elizabeth stepped forward. "Or to us for that matter." She added.

"What are you saying?" The girl stood up, her face furrowed. She did not like where this was heading at all. There was an eerie cold settling in the room. Elizabeth and Mia stared at her with unsettled looks. Realization suddenly crept onto Annabelle's face. "You're sending me somewhere else...aren't you?" No answer. "AREN'T YOU?!?" She screamed, her face contorted in anger. She swung to the right and ran towards the stairway.

"I'll go after her," Elizabeth sighed, motioning Mia to stay where she was. She figured this would happen, but what choice did she have? The girl was wanted by pirates, probably pirates that weren't her definition of "friendly" and how could she keep the girl here when she endangered her family? "It's for the best," Elizabeth said to herself sternly as she left the room.

Annabelle ran, now more blindly than anything, towards the door to the house. If they didn't want her here, then she would leave. Leave rather than be sent somewhere else. Annabelle ran faster down the stairs, past William, who looked more surprised than anything, and straight to the door to leave Elizabeth's house.

However she didn't quite make it outside. As soon as she hit the doorframe, she ran straight into a figure in the doorway and smacked up against the figure's chest. Bouncing to the ground, she landed hard, her dress making sage waves around her, and the lace of her collar in her face. The jingle of pearls rang in her ears as she tried to gather herself. She looked up to see the face of the thing she had collided with.

Looking up, she found herself staring at a long black beard of dreadlocks and beads, along with tattered clothing, a red, bandana, and a thick leather hat. For a moment, Annabelle's heart lept and she quickly rose to her feet, her eyes wide and sparkling. "Teague!" She shouted jovially.

The figure gave her a startled look and flashed a gold-toothed grin, "Now," Jack Sparrow spoke with an awed voice, "How'd you come to know Captain Teague?"


	5. Jack's Story

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hello everyone! Thank you for all the reviews that have came in already! I really appreciate them!!! I will try to have a new chapter up every couple of days, so expect some new chapters soon! _

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Five**

Jack Sparrow leaned down, so his long black braids fell across his tanned face, and his black khol-lined eyes looked puzzled, "How do you know Captain Teague?" His mouth was shaped in a smile, but his brow was furrowed, confused.

Annabelle's mouth gaped; he looked just like Teague, only younger with fewer wrinkles, and colorful beads braided into his hair instead of Teague's well-known silver crosses. "I--I--" She stammered, "I--"

"_Jack Sparrow!" _From the top of the stairs, Elizabeth froze, her hand on the banister, and her face mingled with shock and slight anger.

The man quickly looked up, "_Lizzie_!" He boomed.

"_Lizzie_?" Young William smirked, giving his mom a humourous stare. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed onto her son and then back to Jack.

"He call you _Lizzie _often?" Annabelle mused, not seeing any way out at the moment, seeing as the so-called Jack Sparrow was guarding the door. Elizabeth gave Annabelle a murderous look.

"No," She breathed, moving down the stairs, her sharp brown eyes focused on the pirate. "Jack Sparrow," She said in more of a breath than anything, "I haven't seen you in..." She paused and pondered.

"Five years," Jack encouraged, saying it with slight nervousness. Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement,

"Ah, yes," She sighed, crossing her arms in a sarcastically pensive state.

"Too long, I know," Jack mused, smiling faintly and waving his arms. Annabelle noticed this mannerism was signiture to Teague as well, and felt a curious similarity between the two figures. The physical resemblence was unmistakable.

"Too long," Elizabeth drew closer, her face forming slowly into a frown, "Since I've seen my ship, Jack." She said in a sterner voice.

The man froze and gave Elizabeth a faint, but forced smile, "Ship? What ship?" A bead of sweat dangled on the end of his crimson bandana.

Elizabeth slowly stepped down the last step and onto the landing, both William and Annabelle intently watching her slow graceful movements towards Jack, who stared with the forced smile still stuck on his face. "Last time you were here, five years ago," She mused, her brown eyes narrowed, "You swaggered into this house, begging for a ship to have to track down your beloved ship--"

"That was stolen from me," Jack interjected, sounding a little cross.

Elizabeth held her breath until he'd finished, then continued, "--_The Black Pearl." _She gave him a slightly evil smile, "So I loaned you, _loaned you_," She repeated, this time more heatedly, "My great-uncle's old fishing ship, the _HMS Merryweather_ to use--"

"Marvelous ship," Jack muttered to Annabelle, who was staring wide eyed at him, "A little small, bad rudder on occasion but not too ba--"

"--_and_," Elizabeth jumped in, closer to Jack now, as Annabelle moved to Jack's side with William, "I never saw you again after that." She gave Jack a frown, her eyes scanning his tanned face. "Where were you?" She whispered, her voice a bit softer than before.

Jack staggered in his place, his hands out and his mouth drawn tight, as if not wanting to say. He stared at her a little longer, then took a deep breath and leaned casually up against the door frame, rolling his eyes as he did. _Dammit_, he thought, _there was no way out of this_. "After the ending bit with Beckett," Jack explained, his face forming a small frown. He hated explaining things. "I was robbed of my ship in Tortuga--"

"From Barbossa no less," Elizabeth intruded.

The man glared at her, "Yes," He hissed, and Elizabeth smirked. "By Barbossa. So I's hitched myself a dinghy and went after him, and," He paused, "Some alternate fortunes." He said, his eyes gleaming.

"Which I take it you didn't find," Elizabeth interupted again, her eyebrow raised, "Since you're here."

Jack gave her a grimace, as if she'd slapped him across the face, "No, I found it," He said with a hint of triumph, "After I borrowed that ship off of you," His face fell short, "But it didn't have what I was looking for in it." He said with a trace of defeat in his voice. Annabelle stared in awe at the mysterious man.

"So what then? That was five years ago," Elizabeth said curiously, her hand now resting on her hip. William and Annabelle turned from Elizabeth to Jack.

Jack sighed, exasperated, "I went after my ship again..and was very close to getting it too," he explained, coming closer to Elizabeth now, "But unfortunately, your ship you loaned me...didn't-make-it-here." He said quickly, trying to move on to the next subject, "So now I have--"

"_What_?" Elizabeth breathed, but she knew all along that the ship would never return to her anyway. Still, she was mad, "_Jack_--"

"Now," Jack continued slowly, holding his gaze with hers, "I'd appreciate it if you'd do me one last favor."

"No!" Elizabeth shouted defiantly and turned away from him, "William, get in the kitchen, and you," She turned to Annabelle, "You are not to leave here until--"

"Elizabeth!" Jack called out, following here and the two others to the kitchen, as Elizabeth shoved William and Annabelle in front of her to go, "You don't understand, love, I need this--"

"You _need_?" Elizabeth spun around at him, "You need what? Rum? Money? A ship?" Her eyes widened, "Sorry, Jack, but those things are in short supply around here and I--"

"I need to see the chest," Jack said softly. Elizabeth's face crumpled, contorting in an instant to a mix of anger and sadness.

"_Why_?" She whispered in a breath. William was now far into the kitchen, unaware of the conversation. Annabelle lingered by the table near them, so she could still hear them speak.

"I just want to see a detail on it," Jack said, grabbing her shoulders and squeezing them, "Only that."

Elizabeth stared at his hands and then gave him a frightfully wretched face, her white teeth gleeming in a grimace, "I have half a mind to kick you out of this house myself! For you to even suggest--"

"This," Jack interupted, his brown eyes glowing almost, "Is the last favor I ever ask of you." He said, in an almost pained voice.

Elizabeth ran a hand through her hair and then let it sag to her side, her eyes sorrowed. She seemed so much older in that moment than Annabelle had ever seen her. She gave Jack another look and slowly turned to her son and Annabelle. "You two," She said, her voice more hoarse than before, "Stay here. While Jack and I," She gave Jack an angry look that would have crumpled the spirit of a lesser man, "See to some matters of our own. This way, _Captain_," She added, leading him out of the kitchen and into the dimly lit hallway.


	6. Compromise

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_hey everyone! I cannot thank you all ENOUGH for the reviews! They really mean a lot! I've been busy the last few days, but here's Chapter 6 finally! Hopefully I'll have chapter 7 up at the end of today or by tommorrow:D _

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Six**

It was almost an hour before Elizabeth returned to the kitchen, her face looking grim, but she no longer appeared angry as she had before. Annabelle had rested herself in a chair by the window in the kitchen and had been watching the ships come into the dock. She'd wondered which was Jack Sparrow's. He obviously looked like a pirate, so she had tried to find a ship in the dock that would match that description, but none came to her view. William had been on the opposite end of the table, once looking at the ships too, but now he was back to analyzing his rapier again, something that Annabelle found odd.

"Why do you keep looking at it?" She had asked him before Elizabeth had entered the room.

"I'm going to make swords one day," William replied without looking up at her, "Like my dad did." He said with a short finality.

"Oh," Annabelle said, detecting it wasn't a conversation worth continuing.

When Elizabeth crept into the room, she was followed curtly by Jack, who appeared to have gotten what he wanted, though his face, like Elizabeth's seemed a bit more grim than before. Annabelle jumped out of her chair and rushed towards Elizabeth, followed far behind by William, who was sheathing the rapier.

"You took long enough," Annabelle said with a curious glance to the two of them. "Where did you--"

"That," Elizabeth said sharply, moving towards the table, "Is none of your business, Miss Dalton." Annabelle's face crumpled slightly as she said this.

"_Dalton_?" Jack Sparrow, who had been examining a compass in his hand, immediately shot his eyes up into the air towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth turned to Jack, her face blank, "Yes," She said motioning toward the girl, "That's her name." She didn't understand why he cared.

Jack turned and leaned towards Annabelle's face, scanning her features, "What's your name?" He said in more of a whisper than anything.

Annabelle gulped quietly, unsure of why he had taken interest in her all of a sudden, "Annabelle," She said slowly, "Annabelle Dalton."

The tall, captain stared at her for a while, his eyes scanning her face, his own face almost unreadable, but there was no doubt her name had struck a chord with him. "I see," He finally replied, straightening up as he stood. He glanced towards Elizabeth, "What's the lass doing here?"

Elizabeth gave him a look that clearly said she didn't want to say, "What's it to you, Jack?" She mused, becoming curiouser and curiouser to his concern of the girl.

"Nothing!" Jack quickly said, his voice an octave higher, trying to look casual. He glanced down at the girl and then back to Elizabeth, "What's she doing here, Lizzie?"

Elizabeth flinched at the nickname, but regained herself, "As if it was any of your business, but," She paused and gave him a narrowed stare, "I'm taking care of her." She said simply, eluding to telling Jack anymore than he needed to know.

Annabelle turned quickly to Elizabeth with a sharp frown embedded on her face, "You were planning on sending me away a moment ago!" She cried out angrily.

"Sending her away?" William stared at his mom, his face crestfallen. Elizabeth gave her son a pitiful look.

"Sending her away?" Jack mimicked, but Elizabeth only gave him a deadly grimace in return. Jack staggered back slightly, his arms up in the air. "What?" Jack offered, trying to force a smile. Elizabeth glared.

"You got what you came for," She said bitterly, "Now could you please leave us, Jack? This isn't your business."

Jack stepped forward, a dark smirk cast across his face. He leaned towards Elizabeth, "What if it was?"

"_I beg your pardon_?" Elizabeth's eyes widened.

Jack grinned deeper, "Who left the girl to you?"

Elizabeth's mind froze for a second, her face unreadable. "What's it to you?" She said slowly, not wanting to answer him.

"Captain Teague," Annabelle chimed in, her face glancing from a stark Elizabeth to Jack.

The tall man nodded his head, and the wheels turned inside Jack's mind as he looked up to Elizabeth with a grin. "Teague?" He said raising an eyebrow.

Elizabeth's mouth tightened into a frown as she glared at the young girl. Jack nodded with a grin, "I see," He said, then leaned down to the girl, "Teague left you with Miss Elizabeth?" Annabelle nodded slowly, "I see," He mused, "Why is that, young miss?"

"Why does it matter?" Elizabeth snapped, gripping the girl's forearm, "She's been charged to me, and it's none of your business!" She said sternly.

"It makes it my business what Teague does," Jack said, his voice almost as stern, his hand resting but not gripping Annabelle's shoulder.

Elizabeth kneeled low and whispered into Jack's ear, hoping the girl wouldn't be able to hear her, "Just because it involves your father Jack, _does not _make it your business," She hissed. Annabelle's eyes widened,

"He's your father?!?" She yelped. Jack grinned broadly; Elizabeth rolled her eyes, not all that amazed the girl had overheard her.

"Most don't know that," Jack grinned, his chest slightly broader than it had been earlier.

"That explains why you look so much alike," Annabelle said in slight awe mingled with understanding. She spun towards Elizabeth, "Can I go with Jack?" She asked eagerly. "He can take me home."

"NO!" Elizabeth said, her eyes widening. "Teague left you with me because--"

"Because I wasn't here to take her with me," Jack said with a larger smile, gripping Annabelle's shoulders.

"Because he didn't want her with _you_!" Elizabeth yelled, pointing a skinny finger at the pirate, who backed up a step, Annabelle in tow.

"You were going to send me away!" Annabelle said fiery, giving Elizabeth a glare, "Why should this be any different?"

Elizabeth for a moment wanted to just let the girl go and not worry anymore about the matter, but she had promised Teague..."No," She repeated, "Jack, the girl has to stay!" She said with finality in her voice.

"Why?" Jack said, his face a curious frown, "Why can't the girl leave?" He paused and leaned towards her, whispering as Elizabeth had before, "What's she hiding from?"

"I told you," Elizabeth jerked away, her grip slackening on Annabelle, "It's none of your business!" She felt this conversation was going nowhere, and fast.

Jack seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he clicked his tongue and scanned Annabelle and Elizabeth a moment before clasping his hands together, "Fair enough," He started, as the three people in front of him stared, "I propose a compromise!"

"Go on," Elizabeth said slowly, her face clearly stating _this-I-have-to-hear._

"Let me take the girl," Jack started, but before Elizabeth could deny him, he added, "For two days," He said quickly.

Annabelle spun her head towards the captain, William cocked his head to the side in confusion, and Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, "Why only two, Jack?" She asked sternly. He was up to something.

"Just enough to find out what I need to..then I'll return her to you, safe and sound." He said with an innocent voice, or the best he could pull off.

Elizabeth scanned Jack's face for a moment, then stepped forward, her face forming a congenial smile, "And should you fail to return her, I'll notify Teague that you kidnapped her," She paused allowing the moment to sink in. As Jack's face grew a little paler, she smiled broader, "And he can do to you what he wills." She grinned. She knew that Teague would give Jack Hell if he knew he'd taken the girl.

Jack swallowed audibly and gave Elizabeth a keen grin, shaking her hand quickly, "No worries, love. She'll be back by then. Accord?" He said, still shaking her hand slowly.

"Agreed," Elizabeth said, eyeing him, as Jack led the girl out the door. Annabelle, too surprised and amazed for words, merely looked back to see William's slightly crest-fallen face.

"I'll be back," She mouthed the words to him as the door shut. She only had time to see him nod his head slowly, with a faint smile.

Elizabeth ran a hand through her hair and turned around to find Mia, muttering, "I hate him."

"Wait," William protested, "She'll be back right?" He asked with a pleading face.

Elizabeth gave him a blank reply, smiled slightly, and then turned to go up the stairs, leaving a very confused and frightened William alone at the bottom of the stairs.


	7. The White Gunner

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Once again, thanks for all the reviews! Especially __**ClumsyElf **__and __**SparrowInFlight**__! Also to everyone else who's enjoying the story!!! I'll try to get another chapter up soon! _

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Seven**

Jack led the way outside and down the dirt road in front of them, his swagger increasing slightly as they went downhill. Annabelle grabbed the bottom of her green dress and picked it up as she tried to follow him the best she could. Rather than take the normal path she had taken to get to the house, the one that led through town, Jack quickly shifted his pace to the right and went down a different route. This one was not even a road of its own, but rather a stamped out grassy path that was barely noticable if you hadn't to begin with.

"Why are we going this way?" Annabelle asked confused, avoiding the briar rose thorns that were around them.

"Never you mind, Missie," Jack replied, swatting away at a tree branch his braids were tangled in.

Annabelle followed and yelped occasionally as she was stung by thorns and thistles. Pushing a lock of her brown hair back, she gave Jack an exasperated look, "I thought you sailed here," She said as she ducked under a branch Jack had swung away from himself, "Doesn't that mean you need a ship to get out of here?" She said, not waiting for him to answer.

Jack mumbled something along the lines of, "I'm glad you pick up on things," But Annabelle didn't wait to hear him before she continued.

"Why aren't we going to the docks?" She asked, as they reached a clearing in the bushes. They were now out on the ledge of a sandy dune.

"Well, if the ship was at the docks we'd have to go there," Jack said smiling and looked out over the hill. Annabelle followed suite and gasped to herself.

Out in the shallows, perhaps fifty yards off the beach, was a long wooden ship that was anchored in the water, its white billowy sails tucked away while it was sitting there. Annabelle could make out crew members looking at them towards the beach, and a blue and yellow parrot was flying overhead. Annabelle looked to Jack,

"You told Miss Turner that you didn't have your ship back yet," She remarked, seeing the smile on Jack's face.

The captain quickly frowned down at her, as if she'd insulted him, "That," He pointed to the ship on the beach, "Is not my ship." He started to descend the hill, reaching back to grab Annabelle's waist and hoist her down the sand dune with him. "My ship is a magnificent vessel with large black sails, and is the fastest in the Caribbean, missie." He said with admirable pride.

"Then why do you have that ship?" Annabelle asked as they descended the sandy hill.

"Another pirate stole mine," Jack said, a bitterness to his voice. "It took me forever, but I managed to scrap the remaining pieces of that ship of Miss Elizabeth's to help me buy that ship," He pointed to the one in the shallows. As they reached the bottom of the hill, Jack shrugged, "It's not much, but better than a dinghy and it makes good time with a fair wind." He walked quickly out to the beach, Annabelle trailing clumisly behind him.

Annabelle noticed a small row boat coming to shore to get them. The two inside the boat did not look the friendliest of all pirates she'd ever seen. One was a bit chubby and wore a broad leather belt and was almost bald, save for the whisps of graying hair on either side of his face. The other looked rather bumbling, tall and lanky thin with sandy blonde hair and a reddish tan tone to his skin. Annabelle noticed he had intense blue eyes, though one looked odd. As if it wasn't real. As they climbed into the small row boat, the two gave a startled glance to Jack.

"What's with the little poppet?" The heavier one said with a raspy voice, eyeing Annabelle with dark eyes.

"She's a temporary stowaway," Jack said, as if not wanting to say more than he had to, positioning himself in the boat.

"What 'appened on the island, Captain?" The thinner pirate asked with a meek voice.

"I got what we came for," Jack said mysteriously, eyeing the two pirates. "That should be good enough for you." It was obvious he wasn't comfortable with the two. "Master Whats-your-face," He turned to the thinner one, "You and Master other-man row us back to the ship," He ordered, slightly sour, "And as soon as you can preferably."

"Aye, Captain," The thinner one replied, as they both picked up oars and started to row.

Jack turned back towards the land, and stared down at his compass, rubbing his index finger across the top of the shiny wood, almost as if in a trance of his own. Annabelle looked toward the other two pirates and noticed they were staring at her rather suspiciously. She scooted forward in her seat and gave them a curtious nod.

"'Ello," She said softly, unsure of what to say.

The thin one outstretched a hand, taking it off the oar, "Pleasure, miss," He said rather goofily, "Name's Ragetti." He offered, "This is Pintel," He motioned towards the heavier man beside him, who looked at him crossly in return. "I take it you want to be a pirate?" Ragetti asked Annabelle with a grin.

"I--I don't know," She answered, a little startled. She then tried to find a way to change the subject, "Is...something the matter with your eye?" She asked, then realized how rude she sounded, and squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late to take it back.

"Me eye?" Ragetti smiled even more and there was a loud POP! sound that filled the air. Annabelle felt something round and smooth in her hand, and when she opened her eyes, she realized that it was a glass eyeball in her palm.

Annabelle was many things, but not a coward or someone that scared easily. Realization hit her, "Oh! You only have one eye, that's why this looks so odd!" She smiled and handed it back to him, trying not to look directly at his face; afraid she'd focus on the empty eye socket.

There was another POP! and then she looked up to the thin pirate, who was grinning, "Used to 'ave a wooden eye, I did." He said proudly, "After we found Jack again, and joined him, we made a bit o' profit at Tortuga and me boughts myself an eye, 'smade of glass and all." He grinned. Annabelle grinned back; the one pirate scared her, but Ragetti was quite friendly.

"Thank you for the lovely history lesson, Master Ragetti," Jack suddenly intervened, his eyes staring ahead of them sharply, "But I do believe we're coming up on the ship." Sure enough, straight ahead was the side of the ship, with a long rope dangling to them.

Ragetti and Pintel shimmied up the rope first, wasting no time to get aboard the ship. Jack stood up and grabbed a hold of Annabelle's waist. "Hold on, love," He said quietly, as he gripped the rope and they were hoisted up to the deck. Annabelle held on tightly to Jack's waist and leather belt as she scanned the side of the ship. The words _The White Gunner_ was scawled in faint paint on the top side of the ship. Annabelle read the words quickly as they reached the top deck and Jack landed smoothly onto its surface.

There were many other pirates on the ship now, more than Annabelle could count at once, some looked as if from as far away as Singapore, the land her mother said her father had visited once. Annabelle let go of Jack and fell to her feet on the ground.

Jack staggered as he situated his large leather hat, and was met quickly by a shorter gruff man with white hair and bright eyes. He gave Jack a relieved look, "Took you longer than usual, Captain," He said in a deep, throaty voice. Annabelle imagined it would be a good voice to hear stories from.

"Considering who I was dealing with," Jack thought for a moment and grinned grimly, "Yes."

He walked past the man, causing Annabelle to be revealed behind him. The gruff man gave her a quick look and spun around to Jack, his face full of panic. "Jack! Captain!" He corrected himself, running to the mast, where Jack Sparrow was resting his hand on the wheel.

"What Gibbs?" Jack asked, not surprised.

"There's a woman aboard the ship!" The man called Gibbs said in a panicked voice.

The Captain looked around the ship, glanced at Annabelle, and looked back to Gibbs. "I see no _woman_."

Gibbs gave Jack a cold look, "I meant the girl, Jack." he explained.

"Oh, her," The captain nodded vaguely, as if seeing Annabelle for the first time, "She's with us." He turned back to the wheel.

"Captain," Gibbs coughed a bit loudly, "women," he paused and glanced at Annabelle, "And girls are frightful bad luck on a ship."

Jack looked around, a little distress in his eyes, "Where we're going, bad luck could do us some good," He mumbled, half to himself.

"And just where," Gibbs inquired, sweat beading on his forehead, "Are we going to?" He gave Jack a nervous stare.

The Captain's eyes gleemed, though his brow was slightly furrowed, "Set our course for Northwest," He paused, as Gibbs eyes grew wider, "We're going to see Jean."


	8. The Madame

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hello everyone! This is probably my last chapter for a little while, as I'm going to be gone the next week. But I will try to get a chapter done when I get back! July is such a busy month! Anywhoo, thanks SOO much for all the reviews! They really help!!! _

_To answer __**A forgotten Fairy's **__review, Jean is an old friend of Jack's, from when he was a teenager, but we'll find out more about him shortly. As for __**primadonna001**__, so far there isn't a J/e pairing, but there will certainly be interaction between them as the story goes on! _

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

_Author's Note: For disclaimer purposes, I don't technically own Jack Sparrow, Cotton, Gibbs, or even Jean...but I'm working on it! _

**Chapter Eight**

Annabelle didn't quite recall afterwards, their trip into the Northwest "bayous" as Jack said the natives called them. The vessel sailed seemlessly enough through the small canals and into the murkier dark green swamp waters of the bayou. Thick sage green vines that matched Annabelle's dress swung lifelessly over the mast and sails of _The White Gunner,_ and flies and gnats encircled the crew. Annabelle covered her face with her lacy sleeve to keep the bugs out of her face.

The ship slowly crept upstream towards the darkness, but as they descended deeper into the black pool of water surrounding them, a small lantern light started to appear, hazy at first, but then illuminating the entire black abyss around them.

The lantern light came from the window of a monstrously large house, embedded on a damp island in the middle of the swamp. The house seemed to be a dull creme colored, with vines starting to attach themselves to the base of the house, and a green algae mold filming on the shutters and roof. The roof of the house seemed to be cocked a little to the left, giving the entire house a swayed appearance. The ship's anchor was dropped short of the dark brown mud beach, and Jack came towards Annabelle.

Reaching an arm around her shoulder, the captain looked at Gibbs, "I want you to stay aboard and keep eye on the ship," he said orderly. Gibbs nodded. "I'm to go ashore with the girl and," He looked around suspiciously, "Cotton," He pointed to an elderly man with whitened hair, a bandana, and a yellow and blue parrot on his shoulder. "You can come," He hesitated at the bird, "But not the parrot. Definately not the parrot." The blue and gold parrot squawked angrily and muttered something that to Annabelle sounded like "Walk the Plank!" But she couldn't be sure.

Jack gripped Annabelle at her waist as they were lowered to the mud, which instantly soaked into her shoes and white stockings. Annabelle shivered at the feeling; Jack smiled down at her, "Plenty of time to get new shoes, Miss Dalton," he said trudging forward, Cotton not far behind.

The three walked through the mud until they reached the front door of the three story mansion. It looked older than it should have been, which was probably due to the mud and vines encompassing it. Jack knocked on the door, which echoed loudly. He grimaced and looked down at Annabelle, who was tugging on his shirt sleeve.

"Why are we here?" She asked him curiously. Before he could answer, the door opened with an audible creak. From the shadows of the barely opened door was a bright pale blue eye staring from the darkness. The eye focused on the oustide and squinted, as if taking in the sunlight blindly, though there was hardly any at all.

"Who be it?" The deep gravle-like voice demanded.

Jack smiled, "An old friend, Jean."

The door opened more, and dim light flooded the figure. The man was shorter than Jack, but stockier, with the beginnings of an ale-filled stomach starting to form, his brown ruffled shirt slightly tight at his chest, with a brown leather belt, two pistols, and red and white striped trousers. The man had tanned dark skin, with bright red curly hair and a freckled face, making his blue eyes stand out even more. Or rather his eye, because his one eye had a black patch strapped over it. Annabelle wondered if he had heard of the glass eyes Ragetti owned.

"Jaaaack," The man called Jean said in wonder, reaching out and giving Jack a strong embrace, to which Jack gasped slightly, out of breath. "How long's it been, captain," He winked at the word, offering his hand around Jack's shoulders. Jack ushered Annabelle to his side as they entered the house, Cotton following suite. "Since you've graced my doorstep?"

"Too long, Jean," Jack said, eyeing the house as they entered. Despite the rough outward appearance, the house inside was beautiful. The floors were thick dark lumber, with red velvet rugs adorning them, gold and brass ornamental designs everywhere, with velvet drapes and carpeting going up the long stairway to the second and third floor that curved right as you walked in. Jewels and treasure from various locations were mounded in small piles all through the halls of the house.

The three stared in awe as Jean led them through the hall to a large banquet dining room, where at one end of the large wooden table stood a magnificent throne with crushed crimson velvet and gold tassels. Jean let Jack go and fell into the chair with a sigh, smiling.

"I take it that you spent the money we made those years ago," Jack beamed, smiling amused.

Jean grinned mischieviously, "I spent some of it," He offered, handing Jack a golden goblet, and filling it with the contents of a glass bottle beside him. He offered Cotton one as well, "And your profits from our expeditions?" He asked, eyeing the captain.

Jack frowned, sipping the goblet slowly, "I spent a good deal of it," He said, almost in a daze, "Used the rest to barter myself a ship, the HMS Wicked Wench."

"A navy ship?" It was Jean's turn to frown. "What for?"

Jack didn't offer an answer to this question, "Doesn't matter. Let's just say," He ran a hand through his dark braids. "My fortune's not been as well as yours."

The red haired man's frown deepened, "I see," He rubbed his stubbly beard curiously, "Never known ye for bad luck, Jack Sparrow."

"You'd be surprised," Jack said grimly, setting the goblet down. He raised his hands as she swaggered a step, "Been meaning to be honest with you though Jean," He took a step towards the throne, leaving Annabelle by Cotton's side. Jean noticed her and his eyes widened, but he said nothing. "I need to ask of you a favor."

Jean looked at Jack for a moment not saying anything, then he sighed, "Shoulda figured, that. I be owin' ye some anyway," He sighed, "What ye need, Jack? Gold...Lord knows I have my fair share!" He led a stray hand to point to all the masses of gold and jems on the floor.

Jack stared at the mounds idly for a moment, "Trifles, Jean. I came to see," He paused and leaned in close, "The Madame."

The red haired man quickly spun around to Jack's face, "What did you say?" He whispered.

Jack rolled his eyes, "I need to see--"

"Me," A voice that was deep and loud and yet whispery shot out from the hallway. Cotton fumbled backwards and Jack stood up slowly from his leaned position by Jean, a bemused expression on his face. Jean wiped his brow. Annabelle simply stared at the woman known as The Madame.

The Madame was tall and lanky, her thin frame covered in pale pinkish skin. She bore long glowing blonde hair that was pale as well, cascading down to meet at the base of her back. She was dressed in a loose flowing blue gown that seemed like an evening dress. Her eyes were a light hazel, and her face was slightly wrinkled, showing her age. She looked older than she should be though, her frame suggested she was only in her mid thirties. "Isn't that right," She paused and smiled lightly, "Jack Sparrow."

The captain straightened and smiled at Jean, "You still let her stay here?"

"He's not afraid of me reading his mind and spilling his secrets, Captain," The Madame mused, gracefully gliding as she walked towards the four, "He made up his own mind to let me stay." She rested her delicate hand on a chair, and the light of the lanterns gleamed across the golden band wore around her ring finger.

"You married her?" Jack whispered in slight shock, turning to Jean. The red haired captain shrugged,

"You wouldn't?"

"Not to someone as odd as her," Jack mumbled and turned back around to be find himself face to face with the mystic.

"Do I detect some begrudging disrespect?" She said softly, her hazel eyes flickering.

"Ah," Jack tilted his head up and smiled, "No, no, Margarite," He said, not noticing the woman's eyes flicker angrily at the mention of her name, "Just, wanted a favor from my favorite," He gripped her free hand, "psychic, telepathically spiritually connected, out of body experienced mystical friend." He smiled innocently.

Margarite shoved his hand away, looking slightly disgusted, "What is it Jack Sparrow? And know I only do this because Jean was your crew!" She spat.

Jack stared at her a moment, then grinned. "Wonderful." He said, clearly sarcasticly. "I have a girl that I want you to speak to," He motioned towards Annabelle, who stood as if her feet were permenantly sealed to the concrete.

"The girl?" Margarite frowned, eyeing Jack.

"The girl." Jack repeated, his eyes gleaming.

Margarite walked towards Annabelle and leaned down slowly, her hands finding their way to Annabelle's shoulders and latching on tightly. Annabelle flinched, she didn't like the woman's unmoving hazel eyes and how they bored into hers.

"What is your name," The Madame asked slowly. Annabelle sighed heavily, as if being prodded.

"A--Annabelle...Dalton," She managed to say softly.

The Madame spun her head in Jack's direction, "Did you know this?" She snapped. Jack nodded his head, eyeing Annabelle. She turned back around to the girl, "Who is your mother?"

"A--A--Arabella," The girl said. Her arms were already colder than they had been. "My father was Fitzwilliam Dalton," She added, though she wasn't sure why she'd said it. The mystic nodded slowly, her eyes still cold and unmoving.

"Are you bloody serious?" Jean straightened in his throne and threw Jack a sympathetic look, "So sorry, Jack," He said with a frown. Jack didn't answer him, but remained silent and stone-faced. Annabelle didn't understand why Jean was apologizing to Jack.

The mystic woman stared at Annabelle for a moment, then stood up immediately, her face stark and white. "_You_," She whispered softly, her finger pointed at the girl, "You are the one!" She cried, almost loudly, had she not stopped herself.

Annabelle did not know what she meant. Jack's brow furrowed, "She is? The one _what_?" He asked curiously. Jean looked to his wife for an answer as well.

"Her eyes," The mystic whispered, almost to herself, "The green irises." She said, almost like a chant. Annabelle could barely hear her. Margarite backed against the wall and half crumpled alongside it, Jean jumping up and rushing to her, with Jack by his side. Cotton grabbed Annabelle to keep her from going over to them, and also keeping her out of the line of hearing as well.

"Margarite," Jean pleaded, his eyes full of worry, then he turned to Jack, a look of anger in his face, "What have you done?"

"Nothing!" Jack retorted, "I have about as much knowing of this as you!"

"Liar," Jean said sternly, "You brought the girl to see Margarite...now what do you want to know?" He snapped quickly.

"I know," The Madame gasped, glaring at Jack, "What the Captain wants to hear." She wheezed, pulling herself into a sitting position, Jack and Jean on either side of her. "Jack Sparrow," She sighed, "You must take the girl back to Mrs. Turner." She said with a narrow gaze.

"What?" Jack said immediately, his face showing the first sign of resiliance. Jean looked confused,

"Mrs. Who?"

"You cannot keep her safe as she is meant to be, Jack," The Madame continued, her narrow hazel eyes meeting Jack's brilliant brown ones. "She must never be discovered, until the proper time." She gasped for a breath, "Do not, do not let her be found!" She straightened herself up, and then leaned into Jack's shoulder, whispering in his ear, "I know that you think that this isn't right...but for now it is the only choice you have." She murmured, "You cannot do this duty yet. You know this to be true." She leaned away from him and found Jack's eyes full of sorrowful accknowledgement.

"What did you say to him?" Jean demanded, his face contorted in confusion and curiousity.

"Never you mind," The Madame said softly, rising to her feet with Jean's help. Jack staggered back a step or two.

"You're sure?" Jack said with a disappointed face.

"Did you expect less when you came here?" The Madame questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Jack reached a hand on the girl's shoulder and steered her away with Cotton on his other side, "I just expected more." He motioned for Cotton to take Annabelle back to the ship. Annabelle barely had time to wave goodbye to Jean and the Madame as she was led down the golden corridor.

"Jack, this is only for now," Margarite said, her face becoming softer. "I only tell you the best advice, though it not always be what you want to hear." She remarked.

The Captain was silent a moment, before adjusting the leather hat that sat upon his head, "I owe you anything Jean for the intrusion?"

Jean smiled, stroking his stubbled beard, "Only that the next time you come it won't be on business, Captain."

Jack grinned, and turned to walk away, "Can't guarantee that mate, you know that."

"I have faith in you, mate," Jean smiled and laughed lightly as Jack nodded and turned to go, dissatisfied with this new discovery of information, but he had to admit it: after all these years, Jean still knew halfway what he was doing, and that was more than Jack could say for himself.


	9. Jack's Promise

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hey everyone! _

_I cannot tell you how much I've appreciated all the reviews and comments I've received on this story! It has truly inspired me!!! July is an exetremely busy month for me, so hopefully I can get this chapter to you before I'm gone for another week! I'll try to get Chapter 10 to you before I leave for the week, but since I'd rather give you something good than something I wrote as if on a time schedule, I can't guarantee that! _

_note: After this chapter, the story is going to fast-forward 8 years. I had originally intended for the story to jump 8 years after Chapter 2, but I had a lot of information to get out in the story, I kept it going. I'm sorry to jump ahead all of a sudden, but that was my original intention, seeing as most of the story takes place when Annabelle is 18. Currently, she is 10, and Young William is 11. To answer one reviewer's question, Yes, William III knows his dad is the Captain of the Flying Dutchman; as he met him when he was 10. _

_Enjoy the story, and don't hesitate to send me your comments:D_

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Nine**

It had seemed like a slow eternity until they had made their way out of the swamp and back into open waters. Annabelle had remained to the side of the wheel most of the journey, keeping an eye on Jack, who appeared more somber than he had been. It was obvious he did not get what he was after by speaking to The Madame, Miss Margarite. Gibbs had questioned him when they came back to the ship, but Jack had not offered much of an answer to the First Mate. And Cotton, as Annabelle discovered, was a mute, and not much for conversation. She recalled hearing Gibbs walk away from the trio muttering something about the "blasted parrot" of Cotton's.

As they reached the open ocean, and the large white sails opened up on _The White Gunner, _Annabelle slowly moved towards Jack. She felt confused by The Madame's words, and had waited until Jack wasn't preoccupied to ask him the meaning of them. Tenderly, she came by his side at the wheel and looked up at the tanned-skinned captain. He looked so much like Captain Teague it wasn't even funny.

After a moment, the captain looked down with a glance, then back up, his eyes rolling slightly, as he turned the wheel. "What is it, Miss Dalton?" His voice said with a sigh.

"That woman," Annabelle said looking beyond him out into the crystal blue ocean, "What did she mean about me?"

Jack didn't answer immediately, apparently mulling over his reply in his head. Finally he scratched his red bandana and looked down at her, his eyes scanning her face, "The Madame is known for making wild predictions about people's futures, among other things," He said with a faint grin.

"Do they come true?" Annabelle raised an eyebrow.

Jack frowned, looking away, "Usually," He muttered, then quickly looked back to her, "Whatever she said was nothing to be taken seriously." He said.

"You took it seriously," Annabelle retorted, her face pouting slightly.

"Did I, now?" Jack said, curiously, "How do you know that?"

"You're taking me back to Mrs. Turner."

Jack grinned, a flash of gold struck Annabelle's cheeks, "Am I? Perhaps I shouldn't," He turned the wheel slightly, "Perhaps I should keep you with me."

"I'd like that," Annabelle said immediately, her green eyes glowing.

Jack gave her an empathetic look, "What happened to your mother?" He said, changing the subject. Annabelle gave him a saddened frown.

"She died," She said simply, focusing on the grains of wood in the wheel. It was a mix of mahogany and cedar, she noticed. Her father had taught her how to tell different types of wood, to tell which were good and which weren't for building things.

Jack realized the girl didn't want to talk about it, and frowned, then noticed the pearl necklace she wore. "She give you that?" he ran a finger to one of the ivory pearls. Annabelle staggered back, turning from his hand.

"Yes," She said with an air of defensiveness.

"Just curious," Jack threw his hands up, playing innocent, a smirk on his dirty face. "What about Fitzy?" He asked with a hint of eagerness, "What's that old dog Fitzwilliam up to?"

Annabelle did not smile back, "I wouldn't know," She said in a hollow voice. Jack realized it was going to be impossible to get anything out of the girl at this point. He reached up into his hair and wrapped a finger around a small green bead that was braided into his hair, his index finger stroking it. His eyes lit up, and he reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small string of three green beads that was inside it and planted it into Annabelle's hand. The girl started at it, "What's this for?"

The captain leaned back, his one hand holding the wheel still, the other fastening his pouch shut again. "I have to take you back to Liz," He stated, almost as if avoiding the question.

Annabelle frowned, "So you're leaving me? Is that it?" She asked, almost demanding, her eyes narrowing. It was not so unlike what Elizabeth had done to him earlier, and that made him flinch a little.

"Vacationing," Jack piped up rather quickly, "Taking a momentary leave of absence, love." He said with a cunning smile, but the girl looked unconvinced. "You heard Madame Voo-doo-what's-her-face--"

"Margarite," Annabelle skeptically raised an eyebrow, closing the beads in her palm and stuffing them into the pocket of her dress.

"I know her name," Jack eyed her, his face almost child-like in that instant, and that made Annabelle smile. "Point being, there may come a chance I see you if I make port in that area again..," He trailed off, glancing back to the wheel, and Annabelle gripped her hand, out of instinct, onto his ruffled shirt sleeve.

"Why do you care?" She asked, her eyes scanning his face. It didn't make sense to her, "Why do you care what happens to me?"

For a moment, Jack started at the wheel. It was almost as if he was always thinking, thinking before he said something. He turned to Annabelle and gave her a smirk, "I'm curious about you Miss Dalton," He said with a quick stagger against the wheel. He turned to steer the wheel, his black dreadlocks bouncing against his dark blue coat. "You're smart for a child. That," He motioned towards the mast, "And Cotton's parrot likes you."

Annabelle suddenly noticed the blue and yellow parrot sitting by one of the sails, and was entranced with it for a moment, then she snapped back to reality and the absurdness of what he'd just said. "Wait, _what_?" She said confused, but Jack had already moved from the wheel to the front of the ship. They were nearing port.

Gibbs came alongside Jack, his blue eyes scanning the surf, "Be it right to leave her in the hands of Miss Elizabeth," He said with a nod, a grin on his face. The First Mate noticed the captain's face form a tight frown, "Nothin' to worry 'bout, captain. What would Elizabeth do to the girl?"

"Let's just hope she doesn't kiss the girl," Jack said ominously, moving towards the edge of the ship, where a small row boat was being lowered into the waters.

"Why ye say that, Jack?" Gibbs asked curiously.

"Ever notice that anyone that murderess has ever kissed," Jack said with a small grunt, lowering a large heavy rope down to the boat. "has ended up in a less than mortal state?"

The First Mate pondered the words, then his eyes widened, as he quickly jumped to Jack's side. "I never realized! Surely you don't think--"

"All I'm saying, mate, is let's pray dear Willaim Jr. Jr. lives see his father again," Jack quickly replied, as Annabelle came towards them. "Ready to hop in, Missie?" Jack said idly, motioning towards the row boat.

"This is the third time this has happened in three days," Annabelle said with a grim expression, gripping the rope. As she lowered herself, she couldn't help but have a sinking feeling she'd see this ship again. The course rope chafed her hands as she landed into the small dinghy. She shuffled aside as Jack plopped beside her, tossing his dreadlocks out of his face. Noticing her grim face, he smirked,

"Always hated dinghys myself. A waste of perfectly good space, they are," He grinned, trying to make small talk, but the girl wouldn't accept it, her face looking crestfallen. "Don't give me your sob stories, turtle dove, they'll get you nowhere." The girl looked up,

"I feel as though I won't see you again," She said, her eyes feeling misty.

Jack scoffed at her, his hands at his side, positioning his belt as the oars were lowered to them. "Nonsensical chatter." He said, grabbing the oars. "Someone will have to make sure that Lizzie is keeping you fed and watered."

Annabelle gave him a stern look, "I'm not a dog," She said defiantly.

Jack raised an eyebrow, leaning in towards her as he positioned the oars on either side of him, "Does she know that?"

This caused the girl to break into a grin, which made Jack smirk as he leaned back, his arms slowly moving in motion with the oars as he rowed them from _The White Gunner, _"Keep an eye on the horizon, Miss Dalton, and you shall see me. Every now and again, anyways."

The girl looked up, her eyes gleaming in the sunlight, "Promise, Mr. Sparrow?"

"If you call me captain," Jack eyed her, "Then yes." Annabelle's face broke into a smile, and Jack gave her one to match as he rowed them to shore, where he'd drop off he girl, and get back on his quest to find the secret to the one thing he still desired, other than to get his ship back: immortality.


	10. Eight Years Later

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hey everyone! _

_I decided to get one more chapter done before I leave for the weekend! I hope you all enjoy it! _

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Ten**

Annabelle did call him captain that day he left, on those shores when the dinghy finally reached the beach, and he promised her he'd return "every now and again."

Elizabeth had been curious as to what Jack had done to the girl, but Annabelle would not reveal anything of importance to Mrs. Turner. After all, what would she reveal? Nothing that wasn't new to Elizabeth, the girl decided. Young William was overjoyed to see Annabelle again, but their reunion was somewhat short lived. As she had been gone, Mrs. Turner had found Annabelle a new home to live in. Mia, the maid, had a favor owed to her by the owner of a local tavern in town, and Mia made sure that the owner obliged to keeping Annabelle safe in her place of business.

"I can keep her up in the loft," Buela, the heavy set tavern owner said with a deep, rumbly and groaning voice. "Gots another girl up there already," She said, eyeing little Annabelle, "She'll teach her the ropes around here," She said, shifting her weight in the ground, dressed in a ruffly white and navy dress that did not flatter her extreme curves.

"Just keep her safe and sheltered," Mia said, pushing Annabelle forward, despite the girl digging her heels into the dust, "Mrs. Turner will see to check up on her and make sure of it."

"Ye can tell Mrs. Turner she's in the best hands 'n the town," Buela said hoarsely, gripping the girl's arm tightly and practically dragging her away into the tavern. Annabelle looked back to Mia as if to tell her she didn't want to go. Perhaps if she pleaded, Mia would change her mind and take her back to Mrs. Turner's home. But to her dismay, Mia had already turned the corner, as if to get away as soon as she could, and had disappeared. As Annabelle was shoved into the tavern, she had no idea it would be four years before she saw the maid again...

"Okay," Felicity shoved a hand out, her face skeptic, "You're telling me that you didn't see that maid that dumped you here until four years later?"

Annabelle sighed and smiled; as much as she hated being interupted in the middle of her story, she couldn't help but admire Felicity's innocence. "True as rain," she continued, laying down on the grass and running a hand to her head. "And that was four years ago when I saw her, haven't since then." She added.

Felicity shook her head slowly in disbelief. "When did you see her four years ago?" She asked, folding a shirt in her lap.

"In the market," Annabelle replied quickly, twisting a piece of her long brunette hair with her fingers, "She didn't recognize me at first, I was the one that noticed her."

Felicity smirked, "Well, you have changed a little since you arrived here." She noted, setting the folded shirt down onto the pile of other shirts washed, dried, and folded.

Annabelle grinned and let the twisted piece of hair untangle and fall to her side. It had been eight years since that day her mother had died and her world had changed forever. She'd left Captain Sparrow's side on the beach and gone back to Elizabeth Turner's. Not a few hours after that though, she was shoved into the hands of the grubby, tavern owner Buela, who had sent her to the loft to get "settled in" for the rest of the day and night. Her only roommate was another orphan, Felicity, who had arrived at the town with no name at all. According to Felicity, her name had been given to her by the Captain of the ship she'd sailed in on. She was a fairly pretty girl, with honey colored skin, and dark hair, the color of a raven's wing. She appeared to be what Annabelle had heard were called "Indians," though her eyes were a paler gray, instead of the brown she'd heard about. She guessed that one of Felicity's parents might have been a sailor that had taken up with one of the native's but she couldn't be sure. Not even Felicity knew her origins.

"I suppose I have," Annabelle noted, sitting up and grabbing one of the shirts. Today was the usual laundry day. Felicity and Annabelle straightened and folded the shirts of Buela and her several "customers", mainly sailors and other men that were regulars at the tavern. "Not to say that you haven't either." She pointed out.

"Not as much as you," Felicity said, looking at her in slight awe, "You were so quiet when you came here, now you speak out against Buela as if it were nothing."

Annabelle smirked, "You let her have too much control over you," she said, "She's not our owner, just our employer." She laid down a freshly folded shirt.

"She still gives us a place to sleep," Felicity warned.

"As soon as I can, that won't be necessary," Annabelle said, a faint grin on her face, "I'm getting out of here, Felly," She said, stretching her hands behind her head, smiling.

"You always say that," Felicity snorted, "You've said that for eight years, Anna, and the closest you've ever gotten was out that door and over to that Blacksmith's shop," She gave Annabelle a fiery grin, "To see _him_," She said in a mock-swoon of a voice.

Annabelle snorted in a way to match hers from before, "I needed supplies--" she started,

"Rubbish!" her roommate cut in, her eyes coyly eyeing Annabelle, "You always go over there to see him, not the tools or that older blacksmith. You can't lie to me about it!" She said triumphantly.

Annabelle couldn't deny it outright. She had been confined to the tavern for two years, rarely going outside except to open the doors to travelers or to get fresh water for Buela. However, when she turned twelve, Buela had asked her to make a delivery trip to the Blacksmith to pick up some supplies to repair the main bar. Annabelle had found herself in the Blacksmith's shop down the street, and to her amazement, in front of a thirteen year old William Jameson Turner.

The boy had grown up in two years, growing taller and his light brown hair was now past his shoulders. He still had the same eyes though, and despite his voice growing slightly deeper, he still had the same overdrawn accent. They had immediately known one another, and they talked for what seemed like hours until Annabelle realized how late it was and ran back to the tavern. She received no meal that night for being late, but the knowledge she'd gained was worth it. Since that day, she would make many trips back to the Blacksmith, each time getting a tool or two, and each time learning a new lesson. Last week, Annabelle had finally mastered one of the lunges Jameson, as she called him, had taught her. Jameson was a master with swords, and also, to her delight, a very good teacher. He'd even made her a sword, a simple blade that had a silver handle perfect for her feminine fingers to grip.

"Ello? Anna?" Felicity's voice shook her from her daydream. The tan girl smiled, "Thinking of William Turner again?"

"I'd imagine," Annabelle said nonchalantly, grabbing another shirt, "that he rather hates being called "William."

"Why would you say that?" Felicity said, leaning back and resting herself on her elbows.

"Everyone calls him William," Annabelle remarked, laying the folded shirt down. "No one calls him by his middle name, Jameson."

"I like William more," Felicity said simply, resting her eyes. "You don't see me calling you...you...," She opened her eyes, "What is your middle name, Anna?"

"Pearl," Annabelle replied quietly, her eyes gazing for a moment at the pearl necklace that was concealed under her white frock. She had never let Buela touch it, or anyone else for that matter.

Felicity noticed Annabelle look at it, "Remember when Buela tried to take that from you?"

Annabelle smiled, remembering it, "I kicked her in the shins," She said, as if in a daze.

"She was so mad, she didn't feed you for a week," Felicity murmured, shaking her head in awe. "How did you survive that week?"

"Ate bread from the neighbor," She smiled, winking, "I convinced Mr. Tumnus I was a mute and he felt sorry for me."

Felicity tossed a shirt at her and scoffed, "You're unbelievable!" She laughed.

"Unconventional," Annabelle corrected, but Felicity was no longer looking at her. She'd moved her gaze towards behind them, and back towards the tavern.

"Speaking of unconventional," She said in a hushed voice, "Look who's coming up the hill, Anna."

Annabelle turned around to see the waddling Buela coming up the hill towards them. It was an unusual sight. Usually, Annabelle and Felicity would go out behind the tavern, down the small alleyway, and up the grassy knole to the hill to do the laundry. It was a beautiful spot with a gorgeous overlook of the bay. Buela rarely even followed them to the end of the alley, much less to the hill's bottom. Now she was almost up the hill, huffing and wheezing, but trudging towards them nonetheless. Felicity quickly gathered the folded shirts in her arms, as Annabelle forced herself to rise off the green blanket she'd sat upon.

"What do we owe ye, Miss Grundles?" Felicity said with a slightly fearful voice. "We finished the laundry." She said, her arms full of folded white and ivory and creme linens.

"Annabelle," Buela gasped, grasping her knees and breathing deeply. The girl almost wanted to kick her knees in to see if she'd roll down the hill like a giant egg, but she forced the thought from her mind quickly.

"Present," Annabelle retorted, brushing off her long black skirt and giving Buela a glare.

"Don't give me your tongue, girl," Buela rasped, her black beady eyes narrowed, "You're wanted in the tavern." She said with a strained voice.

Annabelle looked up with an eagerness in her eyes that was unexplainable. "Who is it?" She asked so quickly, it caused Felicity to stare.

"Don't ask questions girl," Buela growled, "He said he wanted to see you as soon as possible," Annabelle's heart was racing, "So what the bloody hell are you standing here for?" She yelled, and Annabelle started down the hill in a hurry. Felicity looked over Buela's shoulder to watch her run down the hill.

"Is it him again?" She asked Buela, who glared at her in return. Felicity cowered back, but Buela only wheezed, shook her head, and turned around slowly.

"Drew a gun on me, that scoundrel," The heavy woman glared down the hill, Felicity behind her. "Damn putz," She heaved, "Probably some pirate scum that knows the little wench," She mumbled on, not noticing Felicity's large smile that had formed on her face as they descended the grassy hill, Annabelle long gone into the tavern.


	11. Welcomed Guest

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hey everyone! _

_Thanks for all the reviews! I've been out of town the last several weeks, and the wireless hot spots I've tried to find...either don't work or no one knows how to access them! Joy! haha, anyway, I'm terribly sorry for the wait, but here's two new chapters up and going! I hope to have more out soon! _

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Eleven**

In one of the tables towards the corner of the room, sat a pirate with long black dreadlocks that were braided with several metal crosses. His head was wrapped in a blue and yellowed bandana, with a large hat sitting atop it and a bright dazzling red coat draped over him. The man was resting his boots on another chair beside him when Annabelle entered the tavern through the back door. His wrinkled face formed a small smile as she walked towards him, her eyes flashing with eagerness. As she approached the pirate, she slowly composed herself and stood in front of the table, resting her hands on her hips.

"You," She said with a slightly fake frown, "have a lot of nerve."

"And why is that?" The pirate asked, his brow furrowing, though he was still grinning.

"You promised me you'd come and see me every month or two," She said, crossing her arms, "It's been almost six months now, Teague." She said, her face forming a faint smirk.

Teague scratched his long black beard, "That be whining I hear?" He said slowly, and Annabelle dropped her guard.

"No, sir," She said. She couldn' t deny Teague the respect he deserved. She had to admit, the captain knew how to get to her. "One ale or two?" She said, turning towards the bar.

"Make it one for now," Teague said slowly, nodding his head. Annabelle smiled and reached behind the bar for a mug. She noticed Teague staring at the tavern walls and then back to Annabelle, "They treat you good here?" He asked, taking the ale.

Annabelle sighed, scratching the back of her head. She supposed for Buela's sake, though she hated to do it, she'd better not be entirely truthful, "I can't complain," She lied through her teeth. Teague took a look at her ensemble and looked more than unconvinced.

"Could dress ye better," He rumbled, "Looks like you haven't had a different dress in years."

_Not far from the truth_, Annabelle thought, "It gets a lot wear around here," she slowly took a seat in front of him, "What brings you here?" She asked, changing the subject.

Teague eyed her, then returned to his mug, "Business," He glanced at her face, "As usual."

The one thing Annabelle hated was how much Teague didn't like to converse, unless necessary. It always made for awkward moments of silence, and that she despised. "I see," She rested her head on one of her hands, "Any word on Jack as of recently?" She asked, her eyes scanning Teague's dark orbs.

"You always ask that," Teague said with his deep voice, one that Annabelle found alluring, "No. I haven't heard of him since I came here last." Seeing the disappointment in her face, he added, "Heard he was making rounds in the Caspian Sea, last I heard."

"Still looking for the _Pearl _no doubt," Annabelle laughed. Eight years and Jack still didn't have his ship back. She almost felt sorry for the captain. She would feel sorrier for him, had he kept his word to come and visit her often. She'd only seen him a handful of times, each one shorter than the last.

"Barbossa's kept it hidden," Teague said nonchalantly, "He's in love with that ship, same as Jack. Not likely to give it up on a whim either."

Annabelle tilted her head, "You could help Jack get it back, you know." She said matter-of-factly.

Teague gave her a hard stare, "Why would I do that?"

Annabelle swallowed softly. She had never asked if Jack was indeed Teague's son, though she knew it to be true, "I don't know," She answered quickly. To her surprise, Teague smiled lightly,

"He's not a boy, Annie," He replied, calling her the name that only Teague called her. She considered it some sort of honor to be called 'Annie'.

"Fair point," Annabelle said, getting out of her seat and gently grasping the handle of the mug to refill it.

"Two this time," Teague said, looking down at the table. Annabelle nodded, as Buela and Felicity came through the back door. Buela quickly sidestepped towards the other end of the tavern and through the double doors leading to the back room. It was very apparent she did not want to make as much talk with Teague as possible. Felicity gave Annabelle a quick smile before she disappeared into the back room with the tavern owner. Annabelle inwardly grinned, it was shaping out to be a good day indeed.

"Here you are," She layed the two mugs, one slightly overflowing with brew, on the table next to Teague, and the captain took one immediately and swallowed a large gulp of ale. Annabelle watched him, wondering in her head the origins of all his trinkets and charms that littered his black and slightly speckled gray beard. Teague noticed her stare and wiped his mouth with his lacy sleeve.

"How old are ye?" He asked after a moment's silence. Annabelle gave him a curious look,

"Eighteen," She said slowly, unsure why he'd asked, "Why?"

Teague nodded, "No particular reason," though she had a hunch that there was, "Curious."

Annabelle leaned back in her chair, wondering why he was here for the first time, "Teague," She started. For a moment, she had the strangest urge to tell him of the story she'd told Felicity this morning, of the time she went to the mystic. She couldn't explain it, but she wanted to tell him it; she had kept it from him for eight years. For reasons she didn't really understand, she hadn't told Teague about Jack taking her away for a day. She'd told him that she had met Jack, and that seemed to end that story. She supposed at the time, she didn't want Miss Elizabeth, no matter how much she loathed the woman, to get into trouble.

"What?" The Captain grunted, looking up at her from his mug.

Annabelle realized that she had never finished the sentence, "N-nothing," She said quickly, looking away. She couldn't gather up the courage to say it. Not now.

Teague stared at her neck, "What's that?"

"Excuse me?" Annabelle gave him a curious glance, looking down at her necklace.

"That," He leaned over and pointed a grisly finger at a small gash on the base of her collarbone. Annabelle touched it tenderly and smiled slightly.

"Oh, that," She grinned, looking at the table, "Just a scratch." She laughed a little, "I lost the match day before yesterday with Jameson."

"Match with Jameson?" Teague raised a large bushy eyebrow. Annabelle realized that he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Fencing," She replied, trying to explain, "Jam--William Jameson Turner is teaching me how to duel properly with swords."

Teague stared at her and then nodded his head slowly, "You have a sword?"

"Yes," She replied, eyeing Teague curiously, "Jameson made it for me," She added, to varify that she hadn't stole it. She hated thieves, and Buela was known for accusing her of stealing things, so it was instinct for her to explain she wasn't a thief to anyone she met.

"I see," Teague suddenly had a very Jack-like expression on his face. It was the kind Jack made when he was deep in thought about something. "Do you have it here with you?" He asked finally, slowly.

Annabelle looked around, making sure Buela wasn't listening, "Yes. It's up in the loft." She hid it from Buela whenever she wasn't training, afraid the tavern owner would take it away.

The captain set the empty mug in his hands aside and moved to the other one beside it, taking a swig. "Hmmm," He mumbled, gulping the ale.

"Why did you come here, Teague?" Annabelle asked, her face forming a small frown.

Teague glanced at her, his face unreadable, "To see you." He mumbled, gulping the ale slowly.

"Is that your 'business' here?" Annabelle stared, her face growing sterner.

"My business," Teague said, his grisly wrinkles moving with the motion of her mouth. "Has not changed since I came to visit you that first time seven years ago."

Annabelle crossed her arms as she leaned in towards the table, "And what," She asked, her eyes narrowing, "Business is that?"

Before Teague could answer though, the door to the back room opened and Buela walked out, Felicity running past her and back behind the bar. "Girl," She said in a hoarse throaty voice, eyeing Annabelle, "The regulars be showin' up here soon." She eyed Teague thoroughly as she made her way towards Felicity, who was getting out several mugs and starting to fill them. Annabelle turned to Teague, not wanting him to go. The captain smiled as he finished the second mug.

"Just as well," Teague said, wiping his mouth, "Wouldn't want to keep you from your job." He motioned to Buela, who was busy getting another barrel of ale out.

Annabelle's face was full of stern resentment, "You can't just answer my questions, can you?" She whispered angrily, "You always leave before you do."

The captain scanned her face and then started to get out of his seat, his heavy boots clopping against the wood floor loudly, "Wait with your sword tonight," He said quietly, looking into her green eyes, as if to bore the moment into her mind. "You'll know what you need to tonight." He said with a tone of finality as he stood up. He rolled his arms, straightening the red coat that was drawn across his frame. He drew out the lacy white sleeves of his coat and eyed Buela, who's face paled as she turned away. Teague smiled with satisfaction as he turned to walk out the doors of the tavern and out into the streets.

Annabelle watched him go, unsure what to make of his words. It wasn't until Felicity tapped her and told her to get the rest of the mugs ready that Annabelle left the exit of the tavern and got back to work.


	12. Dinner At The Turners

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hey everyone! _

_Again, I submitted this chapter with Chapter Eleven! I can't thank you all enough for the reviews! Oh, and I just finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows...wow...is all I can say about it! haha, great times! Well, enjoy the story!! I hope to update as soon as I can! _

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

**Chapter Twelve**

Mia wiped her brow with her sleeve as she set the table in the main dining room, two napkins per plate. One to sit on your lap, the other for the silverware to rest on. Two plates, opposite each other, the same as it had been for the last nineteen years. There had only been one instance where three plates had been set down, and that had been almost a decade ago. Sidestepping across the side of the table, she laid the silver spoons and forks down delicately and went to find a match to light the candle that sat in the middle of the table, its red wax gathering in a small pool at the base of its holder.

Elizabeth walked slowly into the room, her long brown and beige gown flowing with her. She had aged slightly in eight years, the crows feet showing on her eye's rims, and her face did not appear as smooth as it had when she was a younger woman, but nonetheless, she'd aged very well for a woman her age. She appeared as a woman in her early thirties, when in fact she was closer to forty now. Her hair was up in a large bun, with the loose strands curled perfectly. She quietly moved to the table and sat down. William followed her into the room, his brown boots clamping on the floor loudly against the dim silence.

William Jameson Turner was a tall young man short of twenty, taller than his father was, according to his mother, with large brown eyes that were identical to Elizabeth's. However, everything else about him was his father's. His light brunette hair had darkened with age, and was now a rich brown, tied in a ponytail behind his head, it was wavy and thick. He wore a white ruffled shirt, and black trousers, a leather belt tied around his waist, and a large sword strung to his side. He had a pistol, but he rarely wore it on him; there was no need to, and it got in the way of his sword. He sat down across from his mother, who seemed tenser than usual.

"Something on your mind, mum?" he stared at his mother, trying to read her face. Elizabeth glanced up, as if out of a trance, and gave her son a faint smile,

"No. Just been a busy day," She adjusted her dress in her seat, "Lots of things on my mind, and that sort," She explained, as Mia brought out their dishes. She carefully cut into the pork that was on the plate, while young William Jameson held the fork at the meat, not cutting into it. "What's on your mind?" Elizabeth asked him in return.

"Not much," He answered, finally cutting into his meal. "Same as you, I suppose." He stared around the bare dining room, "Ever notice how empty it is in here?" He scanned the walls.

Elizabeth did not look away from her plate, "No," She answered bluntly, taking a bite of potatoes.

"It's not," He paused, looking for the word, "Friendly. It's just cold and bare." He had a chill run up his spine at the words. His mother had never decorated their house much. He never knew why, but he suspected it had something to do with the lack of his father present. Almost ten years ago, he'd met his father and learned of the fate he had earned. William had promised he'd learn the art of swordmaking and the blacksmith trade. He's also promised to protect his mother, who had no eyes for anyone at that moment but his father. He couldn't explain it, but his mother was so different after that day, almost depressed and reserved. He had no idea the kind of love they had shared, but he imagined that having to hold it inside for ten years at a time must be a living Hell.

The woman smiled and let out an exasperated laugh, "William, it's been like this for nineteen years, and you just say this _now_?" She laughed and gave her son a warm expression. The boy smiled back,

"I've noticed it before," He retorted, slightly embarassed. "I've just never said anything."

"Madame," Mia appeared at the doorway, a slightly nervous expression on her face. "We--we have a guest, Mrs. Turner." She said, trying to be professional, but the look on her face suggested nothing more than fear. Elizabeth slowly stood up out of her chair and moved toward the maid.

"Stay here," She ordered quietly, placing a hand on her son's shoulder briefly, before heading into the hall with Mia. "What is it?" She asked quickly, making sure her gown was laced up all the way.

"He says he 'as to see you now," Mia said in a shaky voice, wringing her hands, "I told 'im to leave, but he wouldn't listen to me." Elizabeth moved past the maid to the doorway, where a figure stood leaning up against the doorframe. Elizabeth glared at the figure, her arms stiffened at her side as she moved ahead of Mia to stand by the figure, who's face and body were shadowed by the darkness outside.

"You've a lot of nerve scaring my maid, Jack," Elizabeth said in a shrewd tone.

The figure moved from the shadows, revealing himself to be not Jack, but a similar figure in a brilliant red coat, "You're the second person to confuse me with him today," He said in a gravely deep voice. Elizabeth's face paled slightly, and Mia cowered back towards the wall.

"_Teague_," Elizabeth breathed, the sternness of her voice leaving, "I'm--I'm sorry, I just--" She didn't exactly know what she was planning on saying, but whatever it had been, it never escaped her lips.

"Is there," Teague motioned toward the dining room, "A seat for one more?"

Elizabeth quickly glanced back to the table, and then back to Teague, her face forming a relieved sigh, "Yes. R-right this way, Captain." She said, offering him to go forward. The tall pirate took the offer and moved ahead of Elizabeth and Mia. The maid quickly went to Elizabeth's side.

"What are you doing, Madame?" Mia hissed in Elizabeth's ear. "He's a _pirate_! He's--"

"A friend," Elizabeth shot a hand up to Mia's face to silence her, "Of the family. Don't worry, I trust him." Mia did not look at all convinced, "Just get him a plate of food, Mia." Elizabeth said calmly. Mia, who still looked doubtful, nevertheless went towards the kitchen, mumbling something in another language.

William Jameson eyed the stranger with a stone face, his hand resting on the sword around his belt, ready to unsheath it. Elizabeth came up behind him and rested her delicate hand on his shoulder, "It's okay," She said softly. William immediately dropped his hand from the sheath, but gave his mother a confused look. Teague pulled out a chair for himself as Elizabeth sat back in her original seat. "This," She waved a hand to Teague, "Is Captain Teague, keeper of the Pirate Code. He's been a good friend to your father and myself over the years, but I don't think you two have ever been aquainted." She motioned from Teague to her son, "Captain, this is my son, William." The pirate stared at him, obviously noticing the boy's resemblance to his father.

William sat up in his seat, his eyes in wonder and curiousity, "You're a pirate?"

Teague looked at Elizabeth oddly, then to William, "You're not?"

Elizabeth let out a nervous cough, as William narrowed his eyes at the pirate, "_No_." He said with almost a stern voice. The captain nodded his head slowly, smiling at the boy's denial, as Mia came into the dining room. She thrusted the plate down in front of the pirate with a slightly forceful _clank_, and then returned into the kitchen, obviously angry beyond words. Elizabeth smiled inwardly, she knew that the maid resented pirates almost more than anything else on earth.

"Here on business, Captain?" Elizabeth broke the silence, taking a bite of her meal.

Teague nodded, shoveling the pork into his mouth with a ravenous, and yet strangely articulate manner. "Need to talk to you, Mrs. Turner," He said with a slight graveness in his voice.

Elizabeth frowned, "Is it urgent?" _So this is why he's here_.

The captain didn't reply immediately, "Could be." He said finally, swallowing the bite of food.

William was amazed at how calm and mysterious the pirate was, "What is it?" He asked, looking from the pirate to Elizabeth, who clearly had a silencing look on her face, her eyes widening.

Teague turned to the boy and stared at him for a moment. Elizabeth jumped in, her voice stern, "Nothing that concerns you, William," She said, her eyes narrowing at her son, the look clearly saying _shut-your-mouth-before-you-get-your-head-cut-off. _William turned back to his plate without argue, but his brow was furrowed in resentment.

Elizabeth glanced from her son to the pirate lord, "If it's urgent, we can go back to the drawing room and discuss it." She offered, leaning back to get out of her seat.

"That'll do well," Teague replied, standing up, his legs wobbling slightly as he walked behind Elizabeth, who led him away from the kitchen and down the hall to where William knew the drawing room to be.

Mia came back into the dining room a moment after they'd cleared the hallway, carrying plates of cake on her arms. She stopped short of the table and examined the half-eaten plates with slight confusion, "Where are they, Master Turner?" She asked in a concerned voice.

"They've gone to the drawing room to converse about something," The boy said in a slightly angry voice. He hated being left out of the loop on affairs. The maid scoffed in disbelief.

"But they barely touched their food!" She exclaimed, her face contorting in frustration. "I can't believe--" She paused and started muttering under her breath, something along the lines of 'bloody pirates' and something else that William couldn't understand, save for the fact that it wasn't in English. Despite the fact that he couldn't understand a word she was saying, at that moment, he was sure he agreed with her.


	13. Calm before the Storm

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_**Hello all! Please, let me first say I'm very sorry for taking this long! With school building up its toll and a play I'm in, it seems to get harder and harder to slip in hours to write! haha, not to mention I was struggling a lot with this chapter! haha, but NOW that the play is almost over, I can sit down and write the more exciting stuff! Lots of fun to come! Just bear with me:)**_

_**Thank you EVERYONE for all the reviews and comments! I REALLY and TRULY Appreciate Each and every one! You are all amazing! **_

_**Sincerely**_

_**Romania Black**_

_**P.S. Enjoy the chapter:D**_

_Chapter Thirteen._

Elizabeth rounded on Teague the moment they entered the dark doors to the dimly lit drawing room, "Why did you come here?" She demanded, her brown eyes sharp and mistrusting. The Captain eyed her for a moment, his grisly face blank and stone-faced. He drew a hand to his beard and stroked it, thoughtfully.

"I take it the girl wasn't here long," He said casually, a slight edge to his voice as he paced towards a long dark brown wooden piano that was positioned to the right of Elizabeth. The former Pirate's eyes grew large and doe-like as she slowly revolved to face him, her face paler.

"You've seen her--"

"I've talked to her," Teague cut her off idly, "Every year since she came here." It was very apparent by the look on his face that he was somewhat disappointed in her. Elizabeth's face flushed, and her cheeks were almost as red as the crimson rug beneath their feet.

It took a moment for Elizabeth to gather herself, before she spoke, but when she finally did, her voice was crisp and firm, "You told me that she didn't have to stay here."

"I also said, take care of her," Teague countered, "And yet have you even seen her recently?"

Elizabeth did not know whether to be more taken back by the fact that she truthfully hadn't seen her in a long time, or the fact that this was the most conversation she'd ever made with the Keeper of the Code before. She wiped her forehead with her left hand, "No. Honestly, I haven't, but I've known she was safe, Teague. There is no change in that." She said, the finality in her voice grim.

Teague sat on the piano bench and lifted the casing off the top of the piano, his fingers wiping away years of dust from the wood as he did. No one had played the piano in a long time, it seemed. His grisly wrinkles sinked in around his eyes as he started to play, his fingers striking the keys in a vague elegance. His black eyes looked up and found Elizabeth's.

"She's not safe anymore, Mrs. Turner," He said, his voice striking the words 'Mrs. Turner' oddly. Elizabeth cocked her head to the side slightly, before answering him.

"What on earth do you mean," She breathed in disbelief, stroking a long wispy brunette hair back behind her ear.

"The girl isn't safe," Teague repeated, his raspy voice somewhat impatient as he stared at the Pirate lord before him, his gnarled fingers striking the piano keys stiffly. Elizabeth took a moment before crossing to him, her arms linked in a confused stance. "She needs to leave here," He said idly. Elizabeth shrugged nonchalantly,

"Then take her with you," She said cordially, her eyes not focusing on Teague, but rather the bookshelf behind him. The Captain frowned,

"She can't leave here just as she is," He said grimly, "She'd be picked off in an instant."

"What are you suggesting," Elizabeth sternly stared, "That I take her off somewhere myself?" She laughed sarcastically, as she breathed mirthlessly, "As if I have a boat to do that--"

"She doesn't need you to take her anywhere," Teauge seemed restless at this point, as he rose from the piano, his finger striking the last low keys as he steadied himself. He took a breath and gave the woman an aggravated look, "Just stay here until I send the girl your way. You'll know what to do then," He said with such a finality to his tone, that all Elizabeth seemed to be able to do was stare at him and nod her head.

Teague slowly exited the room, leaving a confused and slightly crestfallen Elizabeth, as her son strolled past the pirate and to his mother.

"What was that?" he said, his brow furrowed, and his deep voice curious. The Pirate King shook her head,

"Nothing, William," She sighed, looking at the piano, tracing the fingerprints lingering on the dusty keys, "I'm sure its nothing."

_**More to come soon! haha, once this silly play's over! haha Thank you SO much for all the support!**_

_**Romania Black**_


	14. Starting of the Storm

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_**Everyone, let me first apologize for the looong wait! I've been busy with plays, speech tournaments, and schoolwork (finals this week! ...woot?) Anyway, I'm so sorry it's taken this long, but after writer's block and my schedule finally getting a little less hectic, I'll have more time to sit down and work on this! I hope you enjoy this chapter and trust me, it's going to start rolling after this one:)**_

_**Thank you all for the reviews! They really help me with this story! Please keep sending me suggestions and reviews, as they are ALL appreciated! You are all amazing!! Most importantly, ENJOY THE STORY!!! **_

_**Thank you all,**_

_**Romania Black**_

_Chapter Fourteen._

Annabelle had followed the rest of the day without much talk, her head swimming with ideas of what the elder captain had been talking about. The wind had picked up since his leaving as well, the rustling of garbage in the streets, and the sound of carriage wheels weaving in and out of the streets. Annabelle took the mugs from the regulars at the bar with a solemn pensive expression, and barely spoke to the angry bar keep as she went about her business. Felicity would give her an odd glance every now and then, and try to sneak in conversation when Buela's back was turned.

"What's with you, Anna?" She said sternly, her eyes curious, "You've been in the clouds all night!" She pointed to Anna's hand and the girl realized the beer was overflowing in the mug onto the floor. She cursed under her breath and the two quickly grabs clothes to clean the mess. Under the bar, Felicity lighty jabbed her shoulder, "Grundles is going to be intolerable if you don't focus tonight."

_Like I honestly care, _is what Annabelle wanted to say. "She's too busy running around flirting with the regulars to care tonight," She said in a snappy whisper, rubbing the cloth against the dirty wood floor in circular motions, "Besides, what do I care." She said, her voice edgy and anxious.

"What has gotten into you, Anna?" Felicity was taken aback, her eyes wider. "You're more ancy than I've ever seen you!" Her voice was a sharp crisp whisper.

"I'm not ancy," Annabelle retorted, but her eyes were darting through the holes in the bartop so she could see the customers in front of her sitting and drinking, "I'm just restless tonight," She glanced to her friend, "It's nothing."

"Nothing," Felicity breathed, smiling in disbelief, "You are a mystery, Miss Dalton," She stood and stretched her back, "A mystery indeed." She moved past the counter to get another mug of ale for an aging grey haired man with a black bandana clinging to his neck. Anna went to wash out the rag in the basin behind her, letting out a long drawn breath of air. There was something in the air tonight; something anxious and unnerving...and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

The cool black waters of the night ocean were stirring offshore of the coast, foam creeping to its surface in small bubbles. Gliding along the rippling waters in a manner so quiet it was almost like a whisper against the waters, was a pale crimson vessel, its sails charred and a dark eerie gray; the edges frayed and slightly swaying with the ripples of the current. Yellowing white letters were faded and chipped on the edge of the ship, but up close you could almost make out the words "Black Victoria" on the ships wood panels. From the mast facing the shore, a thin bony hand slowly ran across the molding of the rail, and slid up to the shoulder of a grisly, and disturbed looking man at the helm.

Whispering in a voice that could send chills up any man's spine, came the soft, honeyed voice cooing, "Slowly, now, Mr. Yelders. We don't want to be heard."

The last glass mug was placed in the top shelf of the cabinet behind the bar, as Felicity wiped her brow, her gray eyes looking worn and tired. "Thank the Lord that's the last of it, Miss." She smiled, her eyes looking upward.

"Another night," Annabelle said softly, slowly shutting the cabinet door and leaning her head against it. The anxiousness she'd felt earlier was slowly subsiding.

"Glad to see you've calmed down too," Felicity started, but she was cut off by the bar keep.

"Alright," Buela grumbled, "The both of you, off to bed and out of here." She gazed around the bar, "We'll have to sweep up in the mornin'. Dalton, shut up the doors, Felicity, go and put the remaining ale in the back room." She waddled off through the doorway, heading to where Annabelle knew was her sleeping quarters. The two girls sternly watched the woman walk away, before giving each other an exasperated look and starting with their final chores.

Felicity disappeared with one of the barrels of ale, as Annabelle went to lock up the bar doors. She ran her hand and found one of the latches to lock the door, when she felt a breeze tickle her bare neck. Looking up to make her hair cover her neck, she happened to see out towards the docks. The black waters seemed quiet, except for the vessel that was moving towards it. Annabelle had looked out to the docks to know enough about which ship came in when and how often, but this ship she'd never noticed before. In fact, she wasn't sure why a ship was heading in this late to begin with; it was a very odd occurance.

Suddenly, as if on instinct she reached towards he belt, where her sword would have set, but she then remembered it was in the loft, as well as Teague's words about staying with it tonight. A chill ran up the base of her back to her neck and she shivered, wanting to know why he'd told her this and at the same time having an eerie feeling it had something to do with the fact that this ship was coming onto shore at such an odd hour. An intense burst of adrenaline shot through her as she turned quickly, after locking the door, and ran towards the ladder to the loft, her feet clunking loudly up the wooden pegs.

No one was in the loft, as Felicity was still moving kegs of ale to the locker for the night. Annabelle crawled across the dusty floor to a small spot where some rags were piled up. Buela never came up to the loft, disgusted at how small, cramped, and dirty it was, so the pile of rags was unnoticed usually. Annabelle reached underneath the pile and slowly withdrew the silver sword that was kept in disguise there.

"What are ye doing?"

The voice made Anna jump, as she spun to see Felicity staring at her, her head and shoulders only visible through the door to the loft. Annabelle sighed in relief as Felicity hoisted herself into the small space. "Felicity," Annabelle breathed.

"I asked ye what you were doing," The tan girl repeated, her eyes on the sword. "If the Missus sees that--"

"She won't," Annabelle snapped with a frown. "She hasn't for six years."

"Still," Felicity said slowly, her eyes lit by the reflection of the blade, "Why do you have it out?" She said with a soft, meek tone.

"Something in the air's not right tonight," Annabelle whispered, situating herself where she sat. "I don't like it."

"That's why you been jumpy?" Her friend shot her a stare, her eyebrow raised, "Now Miss Anna, you know there's nothing different tonight than any other nigh--"

"I just have a feeling," Annabelle cut her off, "Besides, Captain Teague said to be on the lookout for him, and to have my sword ready." She gripped the handle of it tighter as she talked.

"You know how uncomfortable I am around those," She said nervously, eying her friend suspiciously. She gave her friend a stern glance for a minute. "Anna, how do you even know when he's coming?"

As if her words were that of a spell, there was a large rapping against the window of the loft to their left. Felicity screamed and backed towards the wall behind her, but Annabelle spun her head to the loft window and crawled quickly towards it, her eyes wide in surprise. Sticking her head out the window, she looked down and saw a hooded figure in a ratty brown robe staring up at her. For a moment, she was frightened; she didn't recognize the figure.

"Who be it?" She said in an angry voice, her sword gleaming in the moonlight down at the figure as she stuck it out the window. "Answer!"

"You should know who it is," The gravely deep voice resonated up to her. Annabelle quickly lowered her defenses.

"Teague!" She cried out, but the pirate shot a finger to his lips.

"Shut yer mouth, Miss Annie," He said in a fatherly stern voice. "I see you abided my words."

"YE--" She paused, "I mean, yes, Captain," She whispered.

"Is there anyone with you?" He asked, his voice as quiet as hers.

"Yes," Annabelle replied, "The other worker."

"Who's he talking about?" Felicity demanded from the other side of the loft, her voice nervous. "He ain't talkin' bout me is he?"

"What do you want me to do, Teague?" Annabelle said slowly, waiting eagerly for his reply.

"There's trouble coming this way, Annie," Teague said simply. "Go to Miss Turner, she'll know what to do."

"No!" Annabelle said instantly. "Are they going to fight us? I can fight!" She held out the sword. Felicity was shaking with nervousness,

"Anna! You can't be serious!"

"No fighting yet," Teague said grimly. "I know you don't want to--"

"She left me here to rot, Captain," Annabelle said with a voice laced in anger,

"Anna, this is foolish! You can't be seriously wanting to fight--"

"You have to do this, like the woman or not." Teague warned her.

Annabelle's face contorted. "That is the most ridiculous order--"

"What's coming here, Anna?"

"--As if she'd help me to begin with!"

Felicity whimpered, "Anna--"

"Why Teague? Why can't I fight now? What do I need her for?"

The Captain stared at her, as the silence filled the area. Annabelle waited for his reply, as Felicity leaned back against the cool wall, having given up on trying to intervene with the two. "Just go and see Mrs. Turner," The Captain said ominously. "You'll find out in good time."

"So that's it?" Annabelle said with a severe look, "You just expect me to go to a woman I hate and ask her--"

"Anna!" Felicity grabbed ahold of Annabelle's shoulders and covered her mouth. The girl wiggled in her friend's grasp and drew her friend's hand away,

"What is the matter with you? Can't you see--"

"There's noise downstairs," Felicity said in a terrified whisper. Annabelle went silent, drawing her head back inside the loft. "I heard the doors rustling downstairs."

Anna quickly looked down the window, not surprised too much to see that Teague had vanished. She quickly drew her head back inside and ran to the pile of rags and started tying them together in knots. "Here," She handed Felicity a handful, "Start tying them together. It'll take them a while to realize the loft is where we are...we have to go out the window." She saw the terror in her friend's eyes. "I don't know what's going on either, but we have to do this now. There'll be time for explanations later."

The two quickly tied enough together to make a thing but somewhat durable rope. Annabelle drew the rope down and looked at her friend, "I'll go first, to make sure it's safe." She leaned back and situated her feet against the side of the building. At first, she slowly started scaling the side of the tavern, her leathery shoes getting barely enough traction to stick to the sides of the house. She cringed as she slid to the ground, and thanked the Lord above there were no windows on the back of the building. Motioning for Felicity, her friend slid down the rope behind her and landed in a not-so-graceful fashion.

"Buela," Felicity whispered, "What about Buela?"

Suddenly a loud gunshot made them jump, and Felicity grabbed Annabelle's arm. The girls gave each other a terrified glance.

"Go to the nearest fort and hide," Annabelle shoved Felicity away and looked towards the street, her hand rubbing the sword that was at her side.

"What about you, Anna?" Felicity said in a soft, scared voice.

"I have to go see Mrs. Turner," She said, grasped her friend's shoulder, hugged her briefly and turned to run up the street. "Hide and be safe Felicity!" She cried, trying to run and look back at the same time.

"You're going to see me again, right?" Her friend yelled as she turned the corner. Not hearing a reply, Felicity ran on, but her voice uttered the words, "You'd better, Miss Dalton."

**Hey everyone, thanks for reading this chapter! I blame this chapter for the long wait, because I had no clue how to write it or to set things in motion, but now that I have and that we are on Christmas break, things will be a lot faster and I'll have more time to write too! Thanks so much for being patient!**

**More to come Very Soon! Ciao,**

**Romania Black**


	15. Three Captains

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_**Hello everyone! I'm soooo sorry once again for the delay, but work and school are starting up again a lot sooner than I expected:(**_

_**Anywhoo, The next chapter should be out ASAP, and then I'll have to work on the next installment, so stay posted!**_

_**I'm SOOOO thankful for all the reviews and favourite adds! I feel so honored by you all! I hope you continue to enjoy the story!!!**_

_**So, without further ado, Chapter Fifteen! ENJOY!!!!**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Romania Black**_

_Chapter Fifteen._

Elizabeth Turner had seen the ship on the dark horizon, its graying sails sent an icy chill down her spine that she couldn't quite explain. Having gone to the back room where the chest holding the life of her husband resided, she unsheathed the sword that was lying in the old dingy brown leather scabbard and withdrew it, it's cold metal blade shining in the light. She held it up above her head, her eyes dancing in its reflection; _how long had it been since she'd held a sword_?

"You know, Teague," She whispered in a voice that was both commanding and eerie, "Most guests knock when they enter my home."

The tall grim figure of the Captain stepped out from the shadows, his face wrinkled but smiling slightly. Elizabeth lowered the sword and gave him a severe look; to which Teague faintly grinned, "Didn't want to spook the maid." He replied simply.

Mrs. Turner gave him a sarcastic but understanding smile, "I see." She turned and walked towards the hall, where the large window overshadowed the dining room, "I take it this is what you were here to tell me?" She used the sword to point to the large ship docking in the bay. The Captain frowned and nodded his head curtly.

"I've sent the girl this way," He said shortly.

"And what is that to me?" Elizabeth said with an exasperated sigh, the sword lowered to her chest, "You're being quiet about an awful lot of things, Captain Teague," She was now very near to him, "An awful lot that I'm not comfortable with." Her brown eyes bore into the Captain's, who's were pools of empty blackness.

The Captain stood in silence for a moment, taking in her threatening stare, before glancing at her sword, "Where's the boy?"

The words filled the empty dining hall. Elizabeth stood in silence as she stared at him, her eyes widened slightly, "Don't change the subject," She interjected quickly, but there was a new fear behind her eyes. She gazed around the hall with slight aimlessness.

"I take it," Teague stepped forward, his large crimson sleeved hands crossed behind his back idly, "That the boy isn't here at the moment."

"Of course not," Elizabeth snapped, her brown hair tossing as her head turned to his, "He's with Mia in the square closing up the shop." There was an unmistakable tremor in her voice, one that was not accustomed to herself.

At that second, the door downstairs to the main hall was opened wide, with a satisfying crash, and both Elizabeth and Teague strolled to the balcony overlooking the hall to see the intruder, their swords, and Teague's gun, at the ready. At the base of the stairs was a familiar face to both, as Annabelle Dalton stared up at them with a curious and slightly aggravated smile.

"I thought you'd be here," Annabelle said cunningly, staring up at Teague's wrinkled but smiling face.

It took Elizabeth a second to recognize the girl. She had changed in the years since she'd seen her, her long brunette hair was wavy but also showed small traces of auburn in the strands, dirty that hung past her shoulders. She had grown several inches, both in height and in womanhood, and also seemed more mature, her face showing the work she did day in and day out. Teague had already found his way downstairs and to the main floor, as Elizabeth slowly followed suit, her face still shocked at the changes the little girl she knew had undergone.

"You should have never doubted," Teague said simply, as Elizabeth joined him. The two women stared at each other for a long moment, neither wanting to greet each other at all, and both looking quite displeased with the opportunity of seeing one another. "Well?" Teague broke the uncomfortable silence, "Mrs. Turner?" He turned impatiently to Elizabeth.

"Miss Dalton," She replied softly, her eyes narrowed slightly at the girl.

"Mrs. Turner," Annabelle said with a feverish fire, her green eyes dancing in the soft candle light that surrounded them all.

Teague looked at them as if they were children, his face forming a most unentertained frown, "Mrs. Turner," He said severely, and Elizabeth turned her head slowly from Annabelle to the captain, "We don't have time for this."

"Time for what?" The woman snapped, her brown eyes glaring, "You have yet to tell me what this is all about."

"He hasn't told you?" Annabelle said incredulously, then her head in turn snapped towards Teague, "What have you told anyone?"

The Captain stared at the two women looking at him with glowering stern stares.

"The ship approaching here," The captain said with a sigh, moving past an incredulous Annabelle towards Elizabeth, "Is here to kidnap the girl," He said with a grim stare, "Or anyone that they think is her." His dark eyes bore into Elizabeth's, as she took in what he said.

"Kidnap me?" Annabelle broke the silence.

"Why?" Elizabeth cut in, angrily, "Is this why you had me watch her? To protect her from this?"

"_Had you watch me?" _Annabelle repeated with a mock voice in disbelief, "Teague, what is she talking about?"

The captain gave a grave stare to the young woman and then to her guardian, who had her arms crossed in a very upset and amusingly curious fashion. The captain tipped his hat towards Anna, "I told you nothing that would have hid the truth from you. I had Mrs. Turner take you away all those years ago to keep you safe--"

"From what?" Annabelle cut in sharply, her dark green eyes full of frustration.

Teague gave the girl an exasperated look and then let his dark eyes shift to Elizabeth, "What you need to be concerned about Miss Dalton," The captain said with a solemn nonchalantness, "Is going to Singapore."

Annabelle spun around as he walked past her and Elizabeth. "I beg your pardon?" The two seemed completely caught off guard as Annabelle walked quickly past Elizabeth, who looked befuddled.

"Mrs. Turner," Teague turned to look past Annabelle and to Elizabeth, who looked up from her pensive expression with curiousity. "Take the girl to the chest."

Not five minutes later, than Elizabeth had led them to the darkened room in the basement of the house. She was neither thrilled nor pleased by Teague's request, however there was little she could do; her curiousity was getting the best of her in this situation. Annabelle followed with an awe-filled blankness; she had no clue anymore where this was leading, nor could she comprehend her dear Captain's intentions. Teague merely followed, looking neither impressed, nor worried.

The room where the chest was in was not glorious or decorated as the rest of the home. It was dark, gloomier than normal, and covered in dirt and dust. Elizabeth came forward and opened a small wooden plank in the floor, opening it up to reveal an old darkened black chest. She hoisted it out of the nook it was resting in and laid it upon the ground, looking up to Teague as she did. He bent down on to his knees to rub the outer texture of the chest. After looking at it for some time, he withdrew his hand.

"What's in it?" Annabelle asked, her voice seeming childish.

"None of your business," Elizabeth said in a cold whisper.

"The heart of the Captain of the Flying Dutchman," Teague said matter-of-factly.

Elizabeth gave him a look of contempt, her face blushing furiously, "Are you joking?" Annabelle said steadily, her eyebrow raised.

"See for yourself," He motioned for her to kneel beside him. Mrs. Turner looked like she wanted to yank the chest away, but she didn't, however it shook in her grip as she watched the young girl reach her hand toward the box. Annabelle felt a loud THUMP THUMP from inside, and her hand shrank backwards in fright.

"You--you weren't joking!" She gasped. "How--?"

"That's not important," The captain said, rising to his feet, Annabelle following suit, as Elizabeth quickly tucked the chest away, her face unreadable in the darkness. "What is is that I found what I came for, and you need to get away from here. That's the first order of business."

"And how is she to do that," Elizabeth said, as they rose to the steps to lead out of the basement. "when there's so many ships and pirates in the bay?"

"Pirates?" Annabelle cut in, looking from Elizabeth to Teague, "Is that what's here?"

"Far worse than that," Teague said grimly, and Elizabeth had an odd expression. "There's a small ship that traveled alongside us coming to port," He explained as they walked out back into the main hall of the house. "I can give the girl a small crew and she can sail from there."

"Me? A crew?" Annabelle reeled for a second, her eyes looking at Teague in disbelief, "That would make me...a..."

"A Captain? Her?" Mrs. Turner shook her head in shock, "You've lost all your senses, Teague. She doesn't even know how to captain a ship--"

"Perhaps you should join her then?" Teague interupted with a sharp rap of his voice, that silenced Elizabeth. "Since you know the ways."

Annabelle looked towards Elizabeth, who slowly shook her head, "Teague...you know I can't..."

"It's Singapore," Teague interupted, "You know very well that you can." He said in a way that seemed to suggest to Annabelle there was more going on here than met the eye. Mrs. Turner shook her head again,

"That was too long ago..." She started, as thundering footsteps were coming at them from the end of the hall. The three looked up to see Mia running frantically towards them, her face white with fear. Elizabeth stepped forward. "Mia? What is it?"

The maid gripped her shoulders, her eyes wide and fearful, "They've been rummaging through the town Madame! I didn't know what to do...your son...he told me to run back here, but I couldn't...I couldn't just--" She gasped for breath.

Elizabeth shook her shoulders, "_Where is my son_?!?" She breathed angrily. Annabelle and Teague appeared slowly behind her. The maid's face trembled.

"I think they took him," She let out in a heavy breath; Elizabeth instantly dropped her in shock, the maid collapsing in her stance. "I don't know why, Elizabeth!" Mia cried out in frustration and confusion, "They just grabbed him and he shouted for me to run back here..." Her voice trailed off as she whimpered.

Mrs. Turner slowly rotated to where Teague and Annabelle were, her face grim, and so full of quiet anger, that Annabelle feared she'd erupt. But instead, her voice said in the most bone chilling of calm, "Where is my son?"

"On his way to Singapore no doubt," Teague said slowly and quietly. Annabelle merely looked at the stone-faced captain. Elizabeth sighed and sank into the chair beside them at the dining table. Mia bowed her head in shame,

"This is all my fault! If I had stood by his side--"

"Then you would be dead," Teague interupted matter-of-factly, his voice sterner.

Annabelle stared at them all with slight impatience, "We can't just stand here and not do anything," She said angrily, then turned to Teague, "He's at Singapore?"

"I believe he's addressed that," Elizabeth snapped coldly.

Annabelle sent her a glare, "Then I'm going to get him," She announced, as Mia, Mrs. Turner, and Teague stared at her, "Don't look that way," She said softly, her face furrowed, "I can do this." She saw the gleam in Teague's eyes and advanced towards him, "Where's the ship captain?"

Teague stared at her for a moment, then slowly advanced past her, "As eager as you are, Miss Dalton," He said, his voice steady, "You can't go to Singapore."

"Why not?" She retorted quickly.

"First," Teague turned to the girl, "You have to make it inside Singapore, not just to it."

Annabelle's face fell, "I have no ties to that place at all," She said in what she realized was a very whiny voice. "How can I hope to get in then?"

Teague looked past her and his eyes fell on Elizabeth, "I know exactly how."

_**Next chapter, Elizabeth has to do something she's not ready to do to send Annabelle off to Singapore to rescue Jameson. Tune in for the next installment and feel free to review if you have any thoughts on the story! It's really appreciated!! Thank you so much guys and Until the next chapter,**_

_**Rock rock on!!!**_

_**Romania Black**_


	16. Singapore Bound

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_**I definately wanted to get this chapter up, as it ties immediately into Chapter Fifteen! Hope you all liked it:) Anywhoo, without further ado,**_

_**Enjoy the story!**_

_**Romania Black**_

_Chapter Sixteen._

Elizabeth stared at the Captain with a threatening stare, as if she dared him to speak to her or request anything of the sorts. To her disappointment, Teague looked neither intimidated or concerned by this look. Mia was shaking as she slowly lowered her weary body into the comfortable chair to their left, as Annabelle curiously stepped closer to the captain, her eyes on his dark empty orbs.

"Mrs. Turner," Teague said grimly, "She is to go to Singapore, and since you did not wish to venture out--"

"I said that under the pretense that my son was safe and sound," Elizabeth coldly sneered, "That's seemed to change," She said with a leer as the maid quickly let out a whimper and muffled sob. "I'm all for going and reclaiming my son."

"That won't do at all," Teague said with impatience, such that Elizabeth calmed slightly. "His mother is the last person to go and rescue him."

"_I beg your pardon_?" She breathed hastily, her voice laced with fury. Annabelle interupted the two,

"Just what do I need to get in?" She said innocently, which caused Elizabeth to roll her eyes with impatience, but Teague looked glad for the intrusion.

The captain gave her a curt stare and smiled briefly, his eyes laid upon her face, "What you need to get into Singapore is a title."

Elizabeth frowned suddenly, the maid staring at her; Annabelle looked confused, "A title?"

"Yes," The captain continued pacing past her, "The Singapore seas and following areas are currently under tight control over the Chinese Pirate Lord Mistress Ching. She has been patroling those waters and will likely do so still today. You need access into Singapore so you can meet Mistress Ching and have her lend a hand in the rescue of young Master Turner." His gaze for a brief second met Elizabeth's.

"But how can I?" Annabelle cut in, her voice full of hopelessness, "I don't have any fancy titles to speak of," She blushed, "I'm just a barmaid."

Elizabeth let out a dry chortle, but Teague's angry glance silenced her, "You don't have to worry about that. Miss Turner is supplying you with that...," His voice trailed off as he gave Mrs. Turner a knowing look. The woman stared at him unsure of his intentions for a moment, but then the light in her mind opened and it was clear what he was asking of her.

"No!" She declared, standing defiantly, "Never."

"You can't go save him," Teague said, sighing as if he'd expected her defense. "Mistress Ching was not supportive of your leave of post, and you know this very well--"

"But he's my son!" Elizabeth yelled.

"Then if you care for him you will trust me!" Teague yelled back, his brow furrowed. "Annabelle," He quickly turned towards her, and she took a step back in fright. "Are you willing to stake your life in the charge of bringing Mr. Turner back to this shore?" She nodded curtly, "Are you willing to do whatever it takes, Miss Dalton?" She nodded again, and he gave her a momentary grin, then turned to Elizabeth. "She can do this, Mrs. Turner...she can handle a sword, and with the right crew, a ship. What say you?" He waited on her reply.

Elizabeth gave him a short shake her head, full of shock and disbelief, "I can't believe I'm agreeing with this...I would fight you to the death on this Teague," She paused and gave Annabelle a look, "But the more time we waste, the more in danger my son is. We must act as quickly as possible."

Teague nodded, "Then it's settled."

"What is? What on _earth _is all this about?" Annabelle cried out impatiently, her heart starting to race anxiously.

"Miss Dalton," Teague flashed her a golden toothed grin, "You are going to take Mrs. Turner's place as the Pirate Lord of Singapore."

Had Teague explained this earlier, Annabelle realized she would not have believed him in the slightest, moreso she would have considered him insane. In light of that night's events, she wasn't sure what to believe at this point. "The pirate lord?" She asked innocently.

Elizabeth gave the captain a strained look and stepped forward, "We don't have time for pointless chit chat," She said with a commanding voice that Annabelle had never recalled. Mia was giving Elizabeth a shocked and frightful look, "Mia, this isn't the time for secrets either," She announced rather ruefully. "I was appointed the Pirate Lord of Singapore by the previous lord Sao Fang. I served my term out many years ago and left the seas there in the care of Mistress Ching, who was closer to rule them." Her eyes scanned Annabelle, "But if you are to go back to that land, the best would be to go in my place."

Teague nodded his head, and Annabelle nodded as well, "I understand."

Elizabeth slowly reached under the sleeve of her brown dress and delicately laid a worn piece of cloth in Annabelle's hand. The girl looked down at it; it was a bloody scarf, the frayed gray edges browning, but it looked symbolic, though she had no clue how.

"What is this?" The girl whispered.

Mrs. Turner stared at the cloth as if it was her own child, "That is your key to getting into Singapore. The Pirate Lords must own a "Piece of Eight" as it's called. This is a sign that you are amongst them. Mistress Ching will know this was mine. You are to tell her I died and passed it on to you beforehand--"

"Why?" Annabelle intereupted.

Elizabeth gave her a silencing look, "That's simply how it works." The woman smiled at the girl, "You're the Pirate Lord of Sinapore now, so you are to act like a Pirate Lord as well." She leaned in towards the girl, "Think you are up to it, Miss Dalton?"

Annabelle stared at the woman, and then realized the challenge in Elizabeth's eyes. "More than ready," She replied slyly, her face breaking into a smirk. Mia sobbed and ran out of the room, the weight of it all too much for her to bear. Teague laid a hand on Anna's shoulder,

"Then you need to be off. I'll follow you to the dock to get the ship ready." He released her shoulder and started towards the door. The shots of guns and cannons still rang in the air. "Elizabeth," He inquired rather informally, "Can you hold your own here?"

"I have a sword," She replied with her own smug smirk, "and We have a bunker underground...I think we're safe." She nodded.

Teague nodded in return, "Then I leave you for now, Mrs. Turner. Annabelle," He gave the girl a glance, "Follow me."

Annabelle tied the frayed cloth around her wrist and gave Mrs. Turner a final glance, "I promise to bring your son back," She declared, but was not surprised by Elizabeth's silent reaction. Giving the aging woman one last determined look, she quickly turned and followed the captain out into the gun-filled black battlefield, turning the corner towards a new adventure and a new destiny.

_**I hope to have the next chapter out as soon as I can! Annabelle gets a crew and goes to SIngapore, where there's Geishas, battles, Pirate Lords, and a very curious Jameson Turner! Tune in and remember,**_

_**Rock rock on!!!**_

_**Romania Black**_


	17. Captain Annabelle

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hello hello! Wow, school is back in the swing of things..and there is SO much to do! Luckily though, I'm still inspired to write, now that I'm getting into the good stuff! haha, anyway, I hope to have the chapters to you as soon as I can!_

_THANK YOU ALL SOOOOOOO VERY MUCH for the reviews/favorites/story alert requests...etc! I was so amazed and pleased beyond belief at those I received!!! Thank you so much! You have no idea how much I appreciate each and every review:D They truly inspire me! _

_Anyway, I hope you Enjoy the story!_

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

_Author's Note: I don't own Mistress Ching or Teague...but I wish I owned Teague. ;P_

_**Chapter Seventeen.**_

The ship that Teague had entitled to Annabelle was a small flag ship that had obviously once belonged to a Navy fleet, but Annabelle was sure that the Navy had not simply handed it over to Teague as a gift. She smirked to herself as she ran a hand over the sandy wood grain of the ship's edge, her hand resting on the brown ledge as she looked out over the night sky. The battle sounds came from south of them, smoke rising in the air, but the cannon fire a good distance away from them, the smoke somewhat blocked by the mountainous hill that cloaked their existance. Annabelle turned toward Teague, who had just debriefed the first mate of the ship, a burly greased man with a lanky black hair and a thick brown leather belt strapped across his bare chest.

"I take it the Navy didn't give this ship to you freely," Annabelle mused, her face under Teague's by a few inches.

The captain did not smile back, "Compared to what we could have taken," He said with a grave hint to his voice, "They were happy to part with this small vessel."

Annabelle felt her throat tighten slightly. She knew that Teague was capable of being solemn and quite intimidating, but the ship they were on was not small, and she dared not think of what lengths Teague and his crew had gone to take the ship. It became suddenly clear to her that she was among pirates, and weakness was not an atribute they showed freely, if at all.

"Now men," Teague addressed loudly, his face turning towards the crew, eighteen or twenty men who looked grimy and fierce, "Captain Dalton," Annabelle's face blushed as her new title was announced, but she tried to conceal it, "Is the head of this ship. You are to head out towards Singapore immediately; my men will not be far behind to follow you." His eyes became menacing as he gazed over the crowd, "Should I hear of any harm or foul play once being done upon the Captain, or any mutinous behaviour," He unsheathed his sword, a gleaming rod of silver in the pale moonlight, "Ye should answer to this and myself." The crew gave an unsettling glance to each other, but said nothing. "Is that understood?" Teague said in a threatening tone.

"Aye," The men all replied in unison. The Captain Teague turned towards Annabelle, his face unreadable.

"Ye be on your own in Singapore," He said slowly, eyeing her. Annabelle nodded, "Keep your wits about you, and be sharp."

"Aye," Annabelle replied softly, but she found her gaze was on the crew, who had shot her a few nasty glances as she looked at them. Teague noticed her stare and gave her a small smirk,

"Don't be frightened of any of these men. Their loyalty is true enough," He sheathed his sword, "However, that doesn't mean you'll have to step up and be Captain. "It's a bit harder than it appears," He scowled. "Don't let up for a minute and be as hard and assertin' as ye can." He gave a quick look at the crew. "They won't be merciful to weakness."

Annabelle managed a weak smile, "Well, if Captain Jack Sparrow can do it, I'm sure I can as well."

Teague's wrinkled face broke into the first true smile she'd seen from him in a very long while, the wrinkles in his aged face crushing against each other as gold and silver teeth gleamed from beneath his lips. Nodding slowly, he turned and walked away from her, as to exit the ship, and a nervous, anxious, and thoroughly excited Annabelle was left in charge of the small flag ship, dubbed _Lady Agira. _

Annabelle ran her hand along the ship's dark smooth finish; for an old Sinapore flag ship, it was well maintained. In fact, the ship did not look as if it'd seen much battle. Annabelle gazed over to stare at the first mate, her eyes narrowing to make herself appear sterner.

"Has she seen battle?" She asked in the coolest voice she could muster. It was obvious the pirate did not want to speak at first. Annabelle took a breath and sterned her gaze, "Sailor, I asked you if she'd seen battle."

"Aye," The pirate finally replied in a husky voice. "Once in the Pacific," He added solemnly. Annabelle nodded, her green eyes staring into his,

"Obliged...Master...?" She inquired. The pirate glared slightly,

"Tao," He said quickly.

"Master Tao," Annabelle repeated softly, staring back over to the black ocean, the ship now heading out onto the dark open waters, heading to the place that Annabelle knew simply as Sinapore.

The _Black Victoria_ glided along the black waters, its hull so greased and charred in appearance, it was almost camoflauged by the darkness of the waters it oozed across, like a stone on a sheet of black glass. The workers and sailors upon the ship were masked in darkness, but their husky outlines made them appear as monsters of the night.

From inside the captain's quarters, the eerie orange faint glow of a candle barely illuminated the blood burgundy desk, where a bony hand was fiddling idly with a gold piece of eight. The yellowed nails had been painted over with a red dye, but the dye was faded and chipped, so it almost appeared as if the hand was stained with blood. The door to the Captain's quarters creaked open with a snap, and bootsteps were heard coming closer to the hand, as it stroked the coin.

"Captain," the grisly voice beckoned gruffly. "The storm's lookin' like it be past Singapore by the time we make it to port."

The coin gleamed in the light, "Good, Yelders," The honey voice whispered back.

"Right..," Yelders paused as he turned to go, his face struck in dumb confusion, "Cap'n...?"

The coin was stroked slower, but the voice was ever as sickly sweet, "Yes?"

The pirate Yelders took a moment to gather up the courage to speak, "The boy...he's not the one..is he?" He backed away slowly, waiting for the voice's reply.

It was a moment of gleaming candlelight, as the coin's stroking stopped for a moment, "No." The voice said, the honeyed tone an inch colder, "Do you question my motives?" The voice said in a sweet tone that carried more sting than the cold air around the two. The sailor shivered a shake of his thick head,

"No, 'mam," He said, his gruff voice a tad more vulnerable. "Just curious, I was. 'Tas all."

Yellowed teeth grinned in the candlelight, "The best part of any plan is to set it," The voice was no longer cold, but sickly sweet, "We'll get what we're looking for in Singapore."

The grisly pirate sneered a smile, his black teeth matching the oily raven color of his hair, "Aye, Captain." He said, as he slunked out of the quarters.

For a second the gold of the coin in the bony hand shined in the candlelight, it's light steady and unmoving. Then the thin finger slowly started stroking the coin again, with a patient rythmic motion in which the gleam swayed.

For all she had known, Singapore was a very strange place indeed. The paper lanterns, and cold waters led through waterways and into passages curving and winding through and through into the city. She had sent out word a day ago to Mistress Ching, the pirate lord of the Asian sea, and currently of Singapore, though she had heard no word yet from her. Tao had been exceptionally unhelpful in gathering information, but Annabelle had not expected much more out a crew that was sailing under her because they were threatened by Captain Teague. To make matters worse in that area, she had not seen nor heard any news from him, which worried her most. Not only was she on her own, but she honestly did not have much knowledge as to what she was doing.

_Thank God I can think on my toes, _She thought as Tao hurried towards her, the ship on the outskirts of the city.

"Captain," The term had come slowly to him at first, as if he'd dared to not acknowledge her as such, but now it flowed more freely, "The ship cannot go further in."

Annabelle started out beyond them. The beams of bridges in the city were becoming too low for the sails to go under. She sighed and looked around the area, to the surrounding ports. "We'll have to dock here, Master Tao, and a group of men will accompany me to Mistress Ching when we find where she is." She turned and gave him a stern look, "Granted that the ship will be here when we return."

Tao smiled a yellowed grin, "Do not think we are unloyal, Captain Dalton," He smirked slightly, as Annabelle turned herself towards him, "We are loyal first and foremost to Captain Teague, and any order he gives us we are glad to oblige."

"What did he do for you to earn such loyalty?" Annabelle said cooly, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if to try and read him clearly.

The Singapore pirate's smirk faded slightly, "What he did was too great for words to be said of," He said hurriedly, and quickly backed towards his men, "I will go and fetch some men to go with us." He said with finality in his voice. Annabelle smiled inwardly, noting the vulnerability in the question that had arroused.

A thin lanky pirate that had gone by the name of Ling came hurrying towards Annabelle, his gaunt face gleaming with sweat, "Captain," She turned towards him, "There's a man by the front of the ship wanting to get aboard." He leaned by Annabelle's shoulder, "Says he's with Mistress Ching."

Her face lit up with anxiety and excitement, "Let him on," But she cautioned, "Have two men keep guard on him as he does. We don't want any unwanted guests." The pirate gave her a surprised glance and then nodded his head swiftly and ran back. Annabelle was surprised with her own words. Perhaps Teague had known what he was doing. She gave her mind a quick focus, _Perhaps, Anna. _She reminded herself. _Let's not get ahead of ourselves._

The man that was led onto the ship was the most elegant pirate Annabelle had ever seen, his body adorned with a teal silk shawl embroideried with black dragons and white thread cherry blossoms. He word black pants and dark boots with silver buckles and a red sash. His black shiny hair was drawn back into a mid-head ponytail that was short and cropped. His face was smooth and tan. The man bowed to Tao, "Greetings be to you Captain," He spoke deeply to a confused Tao, "Mistress Ching welcomes you who sent word of your coming."

Tao coughed rather clumsily, "Sorry," He apologized, "But I am not the captain."

The man gave him a curiously amused glance, "Oh? Than who is?"

"I am," Annabelle found herself stepping forward somewhat involuntarily. The man stared at her in an bemused awe, "I sent word to Mistress Ching."

The tall man scanned her over, "There was no foreword about the guest being a woman," he paused rather grimly, "Or that they were of other...waters," He scanned her beige hands. She drew them behind her back.

"That shouldn't matter, Master--" She paused, realizing she did not know his name.

"Goge," The man replied heavily, "Yan Goge, head assistant to Mistress Ching," He added with an important bow. "And what business," He said, straightening, "Does a woman of far off lands have with the Pirate Lord Mistress Ching?"

Annabelle wasn't sure exactly what to tell the man, having no idea what they were there for, other than to save Jameson. She then realized that if he recognized Mistress Ching as a Pirate Lord, perhaps it would be best if he knew her status as well. Lifting up the white cuff of her sleeve she showed him the blood-stained rag tied around her wrist. Yan Goge stared at it for a moment. "I believe Mistress Ching will know what it represents," Annabelle said solemnly, not wanting to give too much of herself away. The blankness of Yan's face showed he did not understand its significance.

"I don't understand," He said with an air of confusion, "But perhaps," He eyed her face, "Mistress Ching will. Come with me, and I will take you to her."

Annabelle stared back at her crew, "I'm taking these five with me," She motioned to Tao and four other fierce looking men behind her.

The man gave her a glare, "Very well." And turned from her as he started to exit the ship. Annabelle motioned for the men to follow her and Tao and his men chased behind her to the front of the ship.

As they slid down the rope the man had arrived on to the stone bridge beside them, Yan gave Annabelle a stern look, "Of course," he said nonchalantly, "You will need to wear something...more appropriate in the presence of the Mistress."

"_Appropriate_?" Annabelle repeated with a stone-face.

"Ah," Yan sneered, "Yes. The Mistress is _very _particular about the appearance of her guests." He led the six from the ship and towards a corridor that led left away from the ship. Annabelle looked back at the ship one more time, but couldn't say she was particularly nervous. After all, the crew was loyal to Teague, and if he said the ship was in her command, then she knew they'd obey.

_Hey everyone! I wanted to get Jameson in this chapter, but knowing how much longer it'd be if I wrote to that point, It'd be one SUPER long chapter...so, He's in the next one...or is he? Hmmm...haha, you'll have to tune in and see!_

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks so much for all the support and don't hesitate to comment, review, or send me a quesiton about the story! I'm happy for any and all responses! Many thanks and have an awesome day!_

_Rock Rock On,_

_Romania Black_


	18. Mistress Ching

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_Hello everyone! I had some serious writer's block on this chapter, and it ended up being longer than I expected so I hope to get the next chapter out soon to follow this one up. THANK YOU ALL SOOOOOO MUCH for the reviews, questions, comments, favorites, alerts, etc! I am so grateful, and it really means a lot! I love answering quesitons so if you have any, don't hesitate to ask! I hope the answers I give help you out! _

_Note: Rating soon to change in the next chapter, as things get darker/more violent/etc._

_Thank you all so much, sorry for the wait, and of course:_

_Enjoy the story!_

_Sincerely,_

_Romania Black_

_**Chapter Eighteen.**_

The outside of Mistress Ching's Singapore fortress seemed very rough in appearance, the mossy-covered stone structure looked old and rustic. The smoke and fog that also surrounded them gave it an appearance of gloom. However, once inside the gloom and distastefullness of the area vanished, as the inside was constructed of lush red silk tapestries, gold embroidaried dragons and cherry blossoms adorning each scarf, blanket, rug, and drape that covered the gold filled room. It reminded her of the man named Jean's home she had visited as a child, but it was clear a woman had decorated the surroundings. Things were neatly arranged, with a cosmopolitan feel around them that added a flare of warmth and desire into the room.

Yan Goge led them down the red draped corridors to a small chamber filled with dark violet and green pillows and drapes. "You can prepare to meet Mistress Ching in here," he said stiffly, two women in bright red kimonos and their hair in matching black buns shuffling past him in tall wooden shoes, "We will wait outside for your return." And he slowly shut the doors, the other men that had came with her looking less than thrilled.

The two women, Tae and Mae-shin, were called Geishas as she discovered, and worked directly for the Mistress herself. They scoffed slightly at Annabelle's tattered dark skirt as they threw it aside. After doing the same with her worn work shirt, they gave her a silky black slip to wear, followed by a dark purple silk robe, and then a fine woven crimson and purple kimono, adorned with a golden dragon with wild eyes and silver embroidaried lilies. Tae tied a black sash around Annabelle's waist, as Mae-shin fixed a jade chopstick into her hair, which they had wound up into a bun at the back of her head.

"You will look good for Mistress Ching," Mae-shin said somewhat cheerily in broken English. Annabelle smiled slightly, as the sash was tightened around her waist.

"Yes," Tae said as a sweat bead dripped down her forehead, "Mistress Ching will be pleased." She tied the back of the sash in a bow-like knot.

"Does all of her guests," Annabelle gasped as she spoke, "Get to play dress up?" She said, trying to hide her sarcasm.

Mae-shin gave her a slightly grave look, "Usually." She said with a cold accent, "Those of importance to her anyway," She added.

"Oh," Annabelle added, slightly apologetic, obviously having offended the two.

"Or at least those that look to unsightly for her to begin with," Tae added quickly and in a whispery voice, but Mae-shin kicked her shin, silencing her.

After getting her dressed, they applied a white thick paste to her face, painting her face and a thick strip down her neck in white, then stained her lips with red dye and applied burnt khol to her eyes and brows. When they had finished "preparing" her for her visit with Mistress Ching, Annabelle could barely recognize herself. She blended in well with the other two, her hair just a shade lighter, and her eyes an intense sea green. But other than those features, she appeared like a Geisha maiden. Mae-Shin handed her a delicate red fan and Annabelle stuck it inside the front of her sash.

"Now," Mae-shin added, a small smile on her face, "You are ready to meet Mistress Ching."

The men did not recognize Annabelle when she exited the dressing room and walked past them. They stared at her with slightly lustful eyes until Yan informed them that it was their captain and they should move on. The men straightened their backs immediately and followed suit, afraid to show lust for fear that Teague would have their hides otherwise.

The lair of Mistress Ching was a small heavily ornamented room filled to the brim with silk sashes, incense and candles, and luxurious gold spun paper lanterns of yellows and pinks, the finest that Annabelle had noticed so far. Everything was decorated with the emblem of a six-legged gold dragon next to a silver lotus blossum tree, and several cherry blossoms adorned the tables, their petals spilling into the floor. It was the wealthiest decorated room Annabelle had ever seen, and one of the most organized.

Mistress Ching herself was very similar to her room of operation. She was very short compared to Annabelle, her feet not donning wooden shoes, but soft velvet slippers that were crimson and adorned with a small gold tassell in the shape of a cherry blossom on each foot. She bore a black and red kimono, wrapped in slightly tattered but elegant purple sashes, spun heavily around her to give her a larger presence. Her black hair that had long streaks of white was neatly pulled back behind her head into a large bun, that was covered with jade stones that formed almost a crown around her head. Her small black eyes were surrounded by rivers of wrinkles, but her purse blood red lips were perfect, untouched. She gave Annabelle an approving look,

"Much bettah," She spoke in broken english, then muttered something in Chinese. The two maidens left immediately, both seeming pleased with themselves. "Take a seat, Madame--" She paused and stared at Annabelle, as if awaiting a reply from her.

"Dalton," Annabelle said quickly, realizing she was being spoken to. "Dalton."

"Madame Dalton," Mistress Ching raised a hand as if acknowledging her. "How fortunous we are to be in your presence."

"Pleasure is mine," Annabelle said a little stiffly. She did not really trust Mistress Ching. There was something about her that did not command her trust, and the fact that she was indeed a Pirate Lord did not help the situation. _I'm a pirate lord now too...I can't forget that, _Annabelle thought to herself sternly.

"Goge," Mistress Ching motioned to the man behind them, "tells me you have come to see me," She paused and took one of her long red fingernails and lined the corners of her mouth with this, as if thinking, "And tells me you are calling yourself a Pirate Lord?" She slowed the words 'Pirate' and 'Lord', her small eyes flashing at Annabelle. Several of the men were shifting in their places; Annabelle could hear the rustling of their boots.

She stood up straighter, being weak in appearance would get her nowhere here. "Yes, I'm the Pirate Lord of Singapore," She said with her most confident voice, yet she knew it sounded not as strong as she would have liked. Mistress Ching gave her a stern glare; Yan Goge chuckled slightly, as if amused.

"No, you are not," Mistress Ching sneered. "My eyesight is deceiving, but you are not Captain Swann, Pirate King."

"I know," Annabelle said, her voice slightly testy, "Captain Swann is dead," She said sternly sounding as convincing as possible, "I have taken her place."

Mistress Ching's eyes widened, "Dead," She said softly, stroking her wrinkled chin, "When did she die?"

"She died on the island I live at." She held up her wrist, showing the bloody cloth, "This was her 'piece of eight' she showed me."

Mistress Ching looked at the cloth and then to Annabelle. "So I see," She still looked skeptical, but was accepting the girl's words. "And what, Pirate Lord Dalton," She said in a sarcastic tone, "Have you come for?"

"I seek my men that were stolen from my town," Annabelle explained, her mind racing with a million thoughts she was trying to keep her focus straight. "There were several kidnapped, and I've come to see that they return with me instead of sold into slavery here." She did not want to merely say Jameson's name, for fear that if she singled him out, Mistress Ching would become suspicious.

The elderly woman stared at her for a moment, as if taking her in. Then she shifted in her seat, "There were not many captives take from your land," She said with a small sigh; Yan Goge's eyes were as unreadable as the stone wall behind him. The other men were listening avidly. "However, there is one that is still alive."

Annabelle's heart fell in her stomach, "_One still alive_?" Annabelle repeated in disbelief. Her heart was starting to race. "What about the others?"

Mistress Ching's face was stone, "They tried to revolt and paid the price," Yan's smile was visible out of the corner of Annabelle's eye, and it made her sick with rage. "However, we still have one prisoner if you'd like to take him with you." She sounded sickenly sweet and vicious, her black bead eyes gleaming in the low light.

Annabelle's fists were clasped under the table in her lap, "Of course." She managed to say, through almost gritted teeth, "Any man is worth something to me," She said trying to justify herself, "We did not come here for nothing."

Mistress Ching slowly rose from her seat, "Indeed I would feel the same were it me traveling here," She motioned toward Yan. "Take Captain Dalton to the cell to retrieve the captive," She paused and looked at the men behind them, "Alone, if the captain has no qualm." Mistress Ching turned to stare at Annabelle, who felt her heartbeat rise and the color in her face fall.

"I have no qualms Mistress," Annabelle forced her voice to sound calm, despite the wave of anger that was crashing over her.

"This way then, Captain," Yan said slowly, walking past Annabelle. The others exchanged looks, but did not move.

_So he could be dead, _Annabelle thought miserably, _I've come all this way and he could very well be dead. What will I tell Mrs. Turner? _She couldn't find an answer to her question as Yan led her out of Mistress Ching's room.

A very disheartened Annabelle followed him back out the door, back towards the corridor where she had dressed up for Mistress Ching. However, instead of turning to go into the same room again, she was taken down another corridor to a set of double black doors, covered in a slimy clear film and mold. There was a large wooden board across it. "This," Yan said solemnly, "Is the prisoner holding room. Your captive is inside," He lifted the bar up, opening the door, "Please take your time. We will be awaiting you in Mistress Ching's quarters when you have briefed him." He moved aside for her, as she slowly walked into the chamber.

"Thank you," She nodded her head curtly and went into the lit room, taking out Mae-Shin's fan from the sash and pulling it out to hide her face. Yan stepped aside and shut the door behind her, the black wood hitting the hinge with a satisfying creak, but the board did not shut over the top of it. Annabelle looked ahead and saw that the room was rather dim and dirty. The slick black stone floor wet with condensation, and the walls barely adorned with anything. In the back of the small chamber was a long stone bench, where a figure was hunched over, looking disheveled, his brown trousers stained and his white shirt torn midway up the left sleeve. Still, his brown hair that lanked over his face seemed soft, touchable.

Annabelle's heart skipped a beat as William Jameson Turner stared up at her with dark slightly sunken eyes, "You people leave me to rot in here," He said with a twisted sarcastic smile, "And now you send me a concubine?" Annabelle said nothing, but kept the fan in her face as she watched Jameson rise to his feet slowly, his face smirking. He walked slowly towards her, "No words?" He said with false innocence that Annabelle was not entirely used to out of him, "No English at all?" He was inches from her, his face staring at her. Annabelle felt as though he could hear her heart beat he was so close. She lowered the fan so that her green eyes met his black-brown ones. He stared at her a moment, and she saw his face turned slightly whiter.

She removed the fan from her face in a quick snap and gave him a grin, "No English at all."

Jameson backed up in surprise and slammed himself against the wall with a startled yelp. "Bloody Hell?!" He yelled, his face stark white. "What--" He stammered, eyeing her as if to make sure she existed, "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you," Annabelle said with a lighter smile, as she helped to straighten him.

He stared at her a second, "What's with the getup?" he asked in a lower tone, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I've decided to be a Singapore concubine," Annabelle smarted back, "I figured it was better than a barmaid anyhow."

"Ha," Jameson scowled, "Not funny at all, love," He knew she liked him calling her that; she had since they were kids. "I'm guessing you've seen Mistress Ching."

"Yes," Annabelle sighed, putting the fan away in her sash, "That's how I found you." She gave him a glance, "Now let's get out of here before they come back."

"They will," Jameson gave her a dark glance, "You didn't come here alone did you?" He inquired as he moved toward the door and creaked it open.

"No, there are others with me," Annabelle replied, joining him by the door, "Why?"

"They may not be alive when we get out of here, so we need to head straight to the dressing room and then to the ship," He paused and gave her a concerned look, "You did bring a ship, didn't you?"

Annabelle slapped him on the arm incredulously, "Of course I brought a ship! And what's this not alive business about my other men?" She said as they slowly crept out of the room, Annabelle following Jameson.

"Like it or not, love," Jameson said sternly, as they rounded the corner, "You didn't come here unnanounced." He stared at her confused face, "Mistress Ching knew you were coming. This is a trap."

_Well, that's all for now!_

_Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon to follow this up!_

_Please don't hesitate with comments, suggestions, and reviews! They help me so much think of ideas and get the creative juices flowing!_

_You all are AMAZING and rock, rock on and have a good one!_

_Til next time,_

_Romania Black_


	19. Pirate Lords

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_**First of all...MANY MANY MANY MANY (as many as possibly written) APOLOGIES!!**_

_**After dealing with Writer's block, school, speech, getting things set up (I'm moving from where i'm currently at) and trying to get all the stressful things of life organized...I realized it's been about 5 MONTHS since I've wrote on this story. I'm ashamed I've let all my reviewers down! So I"m starting this up again! Many apologies, but I have some interesting story arcs in mind for this, and I'm promising to finish it! :) I hope you can forgive me!**_

_**Anyway, THANK YOU SOOOOOOO SOOOOOOO much for the reviews and feedback on this! You truly don't realize how much I appreciate and love each and every one of you for it! Please continue to do so when you feel free! :)**_

_**As to **_**Love2rite: **_**Thank you so much for the suggestion! I will definately split up the scenes between the mysterious ship and the main story. :) Thanks for the hint! And I'm glad you're liking my story! :)**_

_**As to Aquatic Calypso: I actually like the idea of Elizabeth dying (bwahahaha...can you tell I don't like her? haha) but I have to keep dear Lizzie around for some time anyway...I have big plans for her! wink wink But I'm SUPER glad you're loving the story!**_

_**And as to Piratess-Bell: You brought to my attention a VERY IMPORTANT fact. Apparently, Mistress Ching is blind. I did not know this! My only defense is that Mistress Ching is such a sophisticated pirate (oxymoron?) that she wants all her guests to look nice, as to not take away from the illusion of glamour she presents...aka B.S. for I didn't know she was blind! Thank you so much for pointing that out and I hope you like this chapter!**_

_**As to everyone else, keep on keepin' on and let me know how you like the story! :)**_

_**Many thanks,**_

_**Romania Black**_

_**Chapter Nineteen.**_

Annabelle stared at Jameson, her eyes narrowed in disbelief, "_Trap_?" Jameson gave her a darkened nod as they slid out further down the hall, their footsteps softened against the loud dripping of water onto the stone floor. "How do you know it's a trap?" She grasped his arm with slight pressure, stopping him. Jameson stared at her a moment, as if not wanting to say.

"The ship I was on," He said in a hushed sigh, finally, "Or, however close it was to a _ship_," He sneered, his face full of bitterness, "Well, the crew was all a mess because they said that we were heading towards Singapore," The two stopped for a moment and hid against the wall, as one of Mistress Ching's soldiers rushed past them, oblivious to their existance. Jameson wiped his brow and continued as they went down the hall, "and that they were going to lure you there and take you with them."

Annabelle stopped him, "Take me? Why?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Jameson said with a shrug, his face more nonchalant now, though his brow was still furrowed.

"But wait," Annabelle thought aloud, as they walked faster down the corridor, "How did they know I would come? Of all people, how did they know it would be me to rescue you?" She stared into Jameson's face, who know bore a curious frown.

"That's the thing, love," He said with amusement as they turned left down the stone, moldy hall, "Someone knew that you and I were close companions, and used that to lure you here. Funny thing is," They stopped again, as another troop passed them in a rush, "They don't know you're a girl." He gave her a stare, as she looked incredulously at him.

"What?"

"Like I said, they think you're a man, because they kept saying 'He's not the one. The other boy is.'," Jameson and Annabelle paused at the door to Mistress Ching's room. Jameson gave Annabelle a sharp glance, "I don't know who these people are, or what they want with you, but--"

"Hush," Annabelle drew a hand to his mouth, silencing him. "Whatever this is, we're going to get out of it." She paused, thinking her plan she had been mustering the last few moments over again in her mind, "But you have to trust me."

Jameson drew her hand away, "What are you about to do?"

Anna gave him a genuine look of half amusement and half fear, "To be honest, even I'm not sure." And she pushed open the large damp doors and the two rushed into the room.

They were back in Mistress Ching's presence, however now it was simply her and Yan Goge. The Mistress stared at her with dark and troubled eyes, as Yan whispered something in her ear that Annabelle didn't understand.

"Yan tells me you have returned with the young blacksmith," Ching said in a rough, deep voice. Annabelle turned to Jameson with a surprised expression.

"They captured me at the shop," Jameson shrugged and they turned their eyes back towards the Mistress.

"You were very foolish to come back this way," She said severely, as Yan took a step forward, drawing out a pistol. "Very foolish indeed..."

Annabelle's eyes widened, and she felt her face flush, "Weren't you given orders along the lines of keeping me alive, double crosser?" She hissed nervously, ignoring Jameson's elbow to her ribs.

"Double crosser?" Ching laughed, as Yan took another step closer, "I am a Pirate Lord! I am merely doing my duties to my sector...there is no 'double crosser' in that whatsoever," She bent over against a jade walking stick, "As for orders, I was indeed given orders to keep you alive," Her face broke into an aged smirk, "But if I give in to them, who's to say they won't take me as soft and try to turn me over? No," Yan cocked the gun back, "I can't have that at all."

"Wait," Annabelle was staring straight at the barrell of the gun; it was so close she could see the fine silver engravings on its chamber, "Listen to me. It doesn't have to end this way. I can--I can--," She stumbled to try to find the right words, "I can offer you something worth keeping us alive!" She finally managed to choke out.

"Spare us," Yan Goge sneered and reached his index finger towards the trigger.

"Hai!" Mistress Ching screeched, freezing Goge on the spot. His finger was hovering over the trigger. There was a long silence. "Yan...let the bird sing." She finally said soothingly, but with an edge of malice.

Yan slowly lowered his finger from the trigger, but his face was full of enough rage to kill alone. Annabelle felt a drop of sweat drop from the edge of her chin, "I'm the Pirate Lord of Singapore, am I not?"

"That's still to be determined to some," Yan interjected, but Mistress Ching coughed to silence him.

"Therefore," Anna continued, "I own this sector that you're currently on."

"The former Pirate Lord occupied this," Mistress Ching corrected, "Once a Pirate Lord dies," she paused, "Land tends to be free reign."

"But if I wanted it back, you'd have no quarry," Annabelle jumped in for rebuttle. Jameson was eyeing her suspiciously, as was Yan.

Mistress Ching's face contorred, her eyes narrowing further, "Why would you want this?" She snapped hatefully, "You live too far away to govern such place!" She spat. Annabelle extended her arm to point to Mistress Ching, and held her hand out flat, palm raised. Yan and Jameson stared.

"That's why I'm offering it...to _you_," She said calmly.

Mistress Ching stared at the girl, as Yan quickly turned to his master. Jameson gave Annabelle a _what-in-the-world _stare, but Annabelle was now smiling confidently. She knew that she had struck a chord with the greedy Mistress Ching. The moment of silence did not last long,

"What do you propose, Captain Dalton?" She said in a higher tone of voice to Annabelle.

"Simple," She smirked, "You let myself and," She motioned to Jameson, "him go, and I give you control of my Singapore sector." Annabelle hesitated and added, "Providing of course that you supply a ship for us to sail back with." Yan Goge gave her a disgusted look,

"You already have a ship!" He growled, "Why should we give you another."

"From what I would guess you've already destroyed my current ship," She said with just as much force back, and Yan froze.

Mistress Ching raised her head and looked from Annabelle to Jameson to Yan and back to Annabelle, "You are much smarter than you look." She offered. Annabelle took it as a compliment and nodded. "Very well, your ship is actually not demolished yet," She frowned, "Take it and whatever scum is left that you brought in;" She smiled darkly, "However many is left, and get out of my domain. Should you return, Captain Dalton, I will not be so forgiving." She reached out a bony hand and shook firmly with Annabelle, Yan Goge watching them intently, ready to shoot at the first order. Jameson's arms were crossed, his finger tracing his mouth with an expression of awe.

Annabelle bowed slightly, "Thank you Mistress," She said firmly, and her and Jameson left the old Pirate Lord with her ward in the luxurious room.

They weren't outside the palace doors but a few seconds before they were racing back to the dock. Jameson threw her a wild look of amazement, "How? How did you know what she wanted?"

Annabelle gave him a very nervous look, "I have no idea! One second I'm staring at a loaded pistol the next I'm dealing with ruthless pirates! I suppose I just acted on instinct."

"You know how lucky you are then?" Jameson gave her a breathless expression. "How did you know Ching wouldn't double cross you even then?"

"She seemed too classy of a pirate to do that," Annabelle reasoned, "And I'm sure she knows Teague is on his way and wouldn't stand if she did," She smiled, "According to the crew, the Pirate Lords fear Teague more than anything." They turned a corner, a few feet closer to the dock than before.

"From what I've seen, I don't understand why," Jameson started, but the offended look on Annabelle's face stopped him, as they approached the _Lady Agira. _Luckily, the ship was still intact, but the crew gathering towards it could not have the same said for them. Master Tao was still there, alive and well, but carried a new dark red gash above his eye. There were five more crew members that had made it back, but that was all. The rest, Annabelle assumed, were gone.

"Captain," Tao gave her an unexpected faint smirk, "So you have made it back."

"I wouldn't think you'd be happy to see me," Annabelle said with an honest sigh, her hands behind her back as she bent over to take a deep breath.

"The Captain wouldn't be happy if you were to go missing," He said, his voice turning grave, and Anna knew he meant Teague. Tao looked around as the five others piled into the ship, "We lost ten in the fighting," He said slowly, "Four have deserted us, and two are missing, but I presume them dead." He gave Annabelle a sharp look.

"All that matters now is if we have enough to crew the ship out of here," She said sternly.

Tao nodded curtly, "Yes," he said as Jameson, Anna, and Tao boarded the ship quickly, "Enough to make it to Tortuga anyway."

Annabelle's head shot up, "What?"

Master Tao gave her an amused look as he made his way to the helm, the two others quick behind him, "Captain Teague gave orders to go to Tortuga after we had left Singapore."

"I thought he was following us?" Annabelle gave him a look of disbelief.

Tao stared at her as if she was insane and then smirked a grin that showed his half a dozen teeth, "He told you that, did he?" He laughed to himself as he turned away, and then paused to add, "Captain," As he walked away, trying to keep his laughter in.

Jameson gave the shocked Annabelle an exhausted expression,

"You consider yourself a "Lord" of this lot?"

_**TA-DA!! I'm safe to say "Back in business" with the story! I hope you liked this chapter, and no worries, much more to come! :)**_

_**Send me a review on how you liked the chapter if you want! I'm open to ALL suggestions and comments!**_

_**Thank you all for being so wonderful,**_

_**Romania Black**_


	20. Successor and Flames

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

_**Hello Everyone! Time for another chapter to the story. I'm going to be gone next week to the State Fair and such, so I probably won't be uploading anything new between then, But I'm going to try and work on a chapter of the story in the meantime! **_

_**On another note, last night I went to a Midnight Release of "Breaking Dawn" by Stephanie Meyers...I'm so excited to read it next week while I'm traveling! I've convinced myself to wait and hold off until then to read it! :) But I'm excited!**_

_**Note: This story takes a departure briefly from our regularly scheduled story with Annabelle and Jameson. I just wanted to put it in, and at the urging of Love2rite, I am splitting up the "mysterious ship" scenes for now. Hope it makes it less confusing! **_

_**Also, know I own NOTHING of Pirates of the Caribbean, or Rob Kidd's characters...(But I wish I did! :P )**_

_**Thanks for all the reviews and support! **_

_**I hope you enjoy the story! **_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Romania Black**_

_Chapter Twenty_

"Soooo," The honeyed voice drew from the blackness of the room, it's melody like a broken record, "Trading negotiations?"

A violent force echoed in the darkness and Mistress Ching crashed to the stone floor like a rag doll that had been thrown with rejection from its owner. The aged Pirate Lord crumbled to the ground in a pool of light that streamed from unfinished patched ceiling. Two more pools of light were present in the room. In one stood Yan Goge, who looked petrified, held by the throat by a gruesome looking arm, though the rest of the captor wasn't visible. The other pool of light only made present the shine of a pair of brown leather boots, that appeared to be bloodstained. A spidery hand reached out, caressing a gold coin.

"You don't own us!" Mistress Ching spat at her boots, her spit missing by several feet, "Pirate Lords are not property."

"Ah," The dark voice cooed, "But you see, you sold yourself to me when I told you I would hand you over the trade agreements for Singapore." The voice halted for a second in the silence, "I did not realize you'd sell out to one of your own before your...employer," She hissed and a sharp kick knocked the aged woman back on her stomach, "Tsk. Tsk."

"The Code states that trade agreements with other Pirate Lords come before other--," The worn Pirate Lord struggled to hold herself up by her elbows. She gave the shadowy figure a dark sneer, "--Things."

There was an intense rush of air, and then the kicks flew in harder and harder, each beat ramming into Mistress Ching's side, until she was well on the ground, slowly cringing within herself, to protect from the furious assault. Yan was wild, his feet stamping the ground and trying to breck free of the captor's hold, but another slimy hand gripped his arms behind his back.

"Stop!" Yan screamed, his face broke out in blotches of sweat, "You're going to kill her, you monsters!"

The kicking abruptly ceased; the figure in the shadows, who this entire time had been stroking the coin, had held it in its fist, as the pale veins tightened under the fist's skin. There was silence, except for the heavy breathing of Mistress Ching and Yan, who was still mustering to break free. The shadowed figure slowly moved into the light, and Yan's eyes widened the size of saucers, his mouth dropping open as if it was made of jello.

"_Monsters_?" The cooing voice lulled, "How closer to the truth we're getting," The figure placed its coin in the pocket of its crimson, laced coat. Yan squirmed against the captor, but with less struggle this time, his eyes filled with rage and contempt. The shadowed figure moved closer to Yan, back into the darkness of the room and away from the puddle of light.

"Please," Mistress Ching's whisper filled the room. All eyes dropped to her, "Spare him. He's...," She paused and breathed softly, "...He's my successor...you can't..."

The footsteps softly changed direction, and moved toward the spot of light where Mistress Ching lay, her body quivering slightly with her every breath. The figure bent slowly towards her, as a veined hand grabbed the front collar of her kimono and tugged her head and shoulders from the ground firmly to a few inches from the shadowed face. "No fear, Pirate lord, your successor will be spared today." There was a pause, as Mistress Ching's breathing leveled out; Yan's face still bore the tension of someone in immense pain, "You are lucky," The face pulled into the light, "I am so generous today."

Mistress Ching's face plummeted into the stone floor, the crushing crack of bone and flesh as her ward Yan let out a piteous enraged scream of anguish. The dark shadowed figures seemed to barely notice.

Fire spread quickly through the palace tapestries, but the floors were so damp and moldy, they were not adhered by the flames. As the flames licked the lush curtains of the former Pirate Lord's chamber, the dark figure escaped quietly through a back entrance to the Singapore castle.

"Order the men to change course," The dark voice soothingly advised, as two other figures gathered beside it, "We're going to Tortuga."


	21. Tortuga: The Tavern

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Pirate's Pearl

By Romania Black

Well….So it's been two years since I've updated this story. I'm sure most of those who have followed this story have given up on my completing it, and I can't say I blame you.

The reason for the hiatus? Well, the best I can offer is writer's block…and busy-ness equaled negligence.

BUT,

Through a review I received this year, whom I'll thank in a moment, plus my infatuation with the Manga One Piece, about pirates as well, I've decided to get my ass in gear and pump out some chapters and keep the story moving…it's changed a little from where I had it starting, but I think you'll like this! The ending is the same, so I guess that's all that matters, hmm?

Many thanks to my reviewers for the last chapter, as well as those who favorited: **Robert 1000, Julie Christine Sparrow, nineteennintytwo, Piratess-Bell, xAquaticGypsyx,** and** Drusilla Braun**, you have my MANY thanks! I only hope you and my other readers can forgive me for my WAY TOO LONG hiatus from writing and updating this story.

Enjoy the chapter! I think you'll like where this is going…

Romania Black

_**Chapter twenty-one**_

Annabelle had not considered herself sheltered in the least bit while growing up. She had always worked hard, and rarely fussed, lest the tavern owner make her regret it. As she scanned her memory, she found she had to be truthful with herself; she did not remember much of her life before the day that Mrs. Turner had come to take her from Teague. Most of it was a blur, though she did remember lying on the ship, the soft silk pillow against her cheek, with a hand to her forehead; words mumbled by someone she knew but couldn't remember now.

Annabelle let her head rest in her hands, and leaned against the railing of the ship, her feet straddled between the wooden rail. Suddenly felt the warmth of skin against her sides. She looked up slowly, to find Jameson resting his head on her shoulder. He gave her a concerned glance.

"Are you okay…Captain," He smiled at the title and sat beside her.

"Fine," Annabelle sighed, "Just…unusual is all I'm feeling." She turned back to him. "Why Teague would let me go off on my own…I just don't understand."

"He obviously did it for a reason," Jameson shrugged, his brow furrowed, "The 'why' of the matter are unsure, but perhaps in Tortuga he can give us some insight."

"And why Tortuga?" Annabelle burst out, though she kept her voice down to not disturb the rest of the crew. "Why stop there?"

"You heard the man earlier," Jameson pointed out quietly, "If we don't stop there, we won't make it home…not with six crew members. We can pick up a few extra hands at Tortuga for certain; I've heard all the ship men who've come to the blacksmith shop talk and rant about crew members picked up from Tortuga."

"Rant?" Annabelle gave him a cynical look.

"More or less," Jameson smiled thinly, "Nothing we can't handle though." He nudged her slightly. Annabelle shook her head,

"Just what we need…" her voice trailed off and she slowly tilted her head onto Jameson's shoulder. Normally, he would have brushed her off, out of embarrassment of having a woman's head lay against his, but this time, he let it slide. She looked exhausted, the white makeup barely remaining on her dirt and ash covered face, and not one to trifle with at the moment. Most of the crew seemed the same too, Tao on edge at the ship's wheel. The _Lady Agira _shifted through the fog quickly, making way toward the darkened mass of land before them.

Annabelle barely remembered getting off the ship and walking side by side with Jameson into the tavern. Tortuga was crawling with people of all shapes and classes, but they all shared two common traits. No matter what class, everyone seemed covered in the same layer of filth and booze, and all seemed to be completely lost and in love of the anarchy that was reigning over the town. Jameson shoved past two drunks passed out near the doorway as he and Annabelle made their way inside.

No one seemed to notice their entrance, as many were dancing, drinking, and starting the occasional trivial brawl with one another. Annabelle leaned on a column in the room as Jameson returned with two mugs of ale in his hands. He handed one to her hesitantly. He wouldn't have given her such a drink were she not to have practically threatened him if he hadn't. He gulped the ale while glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you think Tao can handle the ship?" Annabelle was less than happy about leaving her crew alone with the ship.

"They'll be fine, we'll only be here for a little bit, remember?" Jameson was referring to Tao's message that only she and Jameson were to go into the tavern, and then wait for Teague's arrival. But Annabelle couldn't spot the old captain amongst any of the drunkards around them.

"He should stick out like a sore thumb," Annabelle commented, mostly aloud to herself, but Jameson nodded.

"One would assume," Anyone with such an appearance as far as Jameson was concerned, would be hard to miss in a place like this, "I wonder if he disguised himself?"

"Why would he?" Annabelle argued only half-interested, staring towards the bar. She had noticed a woman was giving her an odd glance from behind the wooden counter, and for some reason Annabelle couldn't understand why. They looked no different from anyone else there.

Jameson turned to give her a look of disbelief. "Seriously, you know how conspicuous Captain—"

But she was no longer beside him.

Annabelle approached the bar cautiously, swiping a lock of darkened hair from her face. The bartender had, upon noticing Annabelle move towards the counter, retreated under the bar, as if hiding.

"I'm sorry," Annabelle stood next to a man who was passed out at the bar, his face smushed up against the wood counter top, ale dribbling from his open mouth. She leaned over the bar, propped up on her hands and looked down. The woman crouched below her looked up with terrified gray eyes and graying, almost white hair wrapped in a bun.

"I'm sorry," Annabelle repeated, "But you were staring at me from across the room, and I was—"

"Who be ye?" The woman interrupted her voice a quick squeak.

Annabelle jumped, "Oh—I beg your pardon—"

"Answer me!" The mousey voiced older woman spat.

"Annabelle," She replied instantly. There was something familiar about the woman's voice…" Annabelle Dalton."

There was a second of silence between them, save for the raucous being made all around them, and the maid slowly rose to her feet, her eyes wider and wider each passing second until they were at eye level with each other. The woman's breath was a rattling gasp.

"Annabelle….Dalton?" She repeated the words as if they were some sort of secret. Her wide eyes grew slightly softer, "You don't remember me, do you?"

Annabelle looked at the woman for a moment, scanning her face, as if trying to search for a memory that she'd misplaced. Then it clicked.

"Oh…." It was Annabelle's turn to be surprised. "Catherine!"

**It's summer now, so more updates soon! I'm really excited to see how you like the story and where it goes! I'm inspired….so watch out! Haha and of course reviews of what you think are always welcome. **

**Happy to be back aboard,**

**Romania Black**


	22. Tortuga: Catherine

Ah, I'm not great about keeping up with this as I'd planned. Curse ye summer for being so relaxing and encouraging laziness!

Now that I'm back from vacation, I plan on doing two chapters a week...a big goal to be sure, but hopefully I can be encouraged from your comments or reviews to strive in keeping this story as well as my other, a Bleach tale "Of Fate and Pheonix" (Check it out if you like the Manga Bleach, especially Karin/Histugaya). Here's to that!

Also, a special **THANK YOU!** to reviewer **nineteennintytwo**! You've been so patient with me, hoorah! I hope you enjoy where the story goes. To answer your question, Catherine hasn't been mentioned until last chapter, but you'll find out who she is soon. And yes, Jack will be returning in the next couple of chapters...as to how, you'll have to read and see!

I hope you all enjoy the story! Thank you for being such patient readers.

Rock on,

Romania Black

Chapter Twenty-Two

The older woman scanned her eyes quickly across the room, grabbed Annabelle's arm and drug her around the bar; Annabelle bumping the drunk passed out beside her, but barely budging him. She pulled Annabelle to crouch beside her, laying a hand on her cheek as she did.

Her eyes lingered on Annabelle's face, "It is you, isn't it?"

"Yes." Annabelle didn't know how else to reply. "I had honestly almost forgotten you, Catherine." She looked at the older woman. Despite her whitened hair and lined face, she looked healthy, her skin a rosy olive tone and bodice plump in her white and brown barmaid's dress. "Clearly I don't need to ask how you are."

The older woman smiled, a crinkled smile that made her look every ounce of her forty plus years, "You were a child then, so it's no surprise." Catherine gave her a quick up and down glance over, "You've certainly grown up yourself."

Annabelle smiled; she had no idea she'd be meeting an old family friend. _This trip might just have been worth it..._ Just then Jameson's face flashed in her head. _He's here! With me! _She could have smacked herself on the forehead.

"Listen," Annabelle chided in quickly, "Do you work here?"

"Yes," Catherine sighed with slight heaviness. It was clear she didn't like the occupation.

"I want to talk with you more, Catherine, but I have to take care of something extremely important at the moment."

"Would it have something to do with the man you were standing with?" Catherine eyed him with suspicion.

"It would," Annabelle retorted defiantly, but with a hint of amusement. Catherine had always seemed suspicious of any stranger near her as a child; clearly some things never changed. "But it won't take long. Will you still be here?"

Catherine gave her a gentle grin, "Of course. Don't run off, dear. It's been ages." She eyed Annabelle with a touch of longing loneliness.

"I won't."

Annabelle rose to her feet, Catherine followed soon after. They gave each other a quick glance and a small smile and then separated, Catherine returning to the drunk, who'd seemed to have woken up and wanted more ale. Annabelle felt lighter on her feet, stepping towards Jameson, who was incredulously staring at her, the ale mug twirling in his hand.

"Where the bloody hell'd you go?" He scowled. "Are they serving special drinks under the bar now?"

"I saw someone I knew," Annabelle defended, "Don't whine, Jameson Turner, I wasn't gone that long."

"Just long enough for me to worry," Jameson blinked, realizing what she'd said, "Someone you knew? Who?"

"My old caretaker," Annabelle replied with slight hesitation, "She watched me as a child when my mother would-" How could she phrase it? _What exactly did she do when she left? Went off pirating? No...surely not...not with me there. _"-leave for errands."

"I always wondered where you were from." He gave her a startled look, "She took care of you _here_?" Jameson gave her an incredulous look, glancing around the bar. Someone had just smashed a bottle over another man's head, while a wench in his arms licked the ale off his cheek in a grossly seductive fashion.

Annabelle felt her cheeks pinken. "Well...yes." Memory suddenly clicked into place, as if someone was flipping a set of switches. "There's a room attached to this bar! Catherine didn't work here back then, but she rented a room attached to this one. That's where I stayed."

Jameson looked dubiously at her, as if to say _Seriously?_

Annabelle placed her hands on her hips, "There's more to Tortuga than this, you know. Do you honestly think I spent my childhood in the bar?" Now that she was saying it though, it did seem incredible that she'd stayed in a place so close to this chaos.

Annabelle had never told anyone of her upbringing in Tortuga. She had known it would have just given Elizabeth more reason to hate her, and would have frightened any local she'd told. Jameson was a prime example, though she'd hoped he would've reacted with more tact and understanding.

"Knowing you I wouldn't doubt anything was possible," He frowned, "You've certainly led a less than normal life."

"I could say the same to you," Annabelle countered. She pondered for a moment. "It would be nice to see my old hideaway room..." She said, thinking aloud. Jameson's eyes widened.

"I would highly suggest otherwise," He quickly added, stirring her from her thoughts.

"Oh come off it!" Annabelle wasn't afraid to yell, since the frenzy around them gave more than ample sound to cover it up. "Catherine was my nanny, not some pirate or fiend that would harm us."

Jameson was in no mood to argue. "Regardless, we're supposed to wait for Teague in here. I don't trust this...woman...any further than I could throw her."

Annabelle was slightly insulted that he was reacting this way. Had she not just told him she'd met up with a long lost friend, practically part of her own family? "Teague never gave us a set time he would arrive. And the room is just on the other side of this bar, not fifty feet away." She gestured tothe door behind the bar where Catherine was stationed almost like a guard. "Please, Jameson," Annabelle gave him a pleading look. "I won't be long."

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this," Jameson haughtily sighed. "Fine." He stared at the bar. "The room is behind there?"

"Yes, you can come and get me when Teague arrives." She smiled, happy he was obliging her.

"Don't be too long," Jameson warned. "We need to leave with Tao and Teague as soon as possible." His dark eyes settled on hers, and she nodded, smiling as she turned to return to Catherine, who had just cleaned a silver mug and placed it on the shelf beside her.

"Catherine. I want to see the old room," Annabelle said low to the barmaid. Even in the noise around them, she understood, motioning Annabelle to the door behind her.


	23. Tortuga: Unexpected, Unexplained

Yes! 2nd chapter in the week! I feel so...accomplished? Yep, I think that's the word. Or maybe...honest? Heh heh...hmmm...

Thanks again to reviewer **nineteennintytwo**! I'm glad you've been patient. It gives me hopes that other readers will be as forgiving. haha!

Enjoy this chapter,

Romania Black

Chapter Twenty-Three

"I actually live in the attic above this bar now. It's been a while since I've needed to come in here. I actually thought about sealing it off," Catherine muttered softly, her eyes scanning the walls as she let Annabelle past the door. "It's not been cleaned anyway, in," She paused, her mind searching for the most accurate answer to the question.

"Don't worry about it," Annabelle offered absently, her mind more focused on her new surroundings.

"Ye can look around all you want, but there's really nothing in here of value but some crates I stored in here," Catherine sighed. Annabelle said nothing. "I'll be right out the door if ye need anything at all." She gave Annabelle a solemn look, hearing no answer from her, and slowly slid the door shut behind her.

The walls and floor were white from the thick layer of dust covering them. Cobwebs crept across the ceiling and the crates Catherine had mentioned were piled in a corner of what could be considered the main "space" of living. Annabelle saw the cot, the dresser, all of it was from her childhood where she had stayed here. All of it, except a blank spot on the largest wall.

There, the dust was just a touch thinner, a large square space where a painting had once hung was no longer there. Annabelle wondered if Catherine had sold it to make some extra money. She couldn't honestly remember what the painting was even of.

She ran her hand across the mantle in front of her, under where the painting had been. The dust formed into a thick layer against her skin. Originally, Catherine was going to hire a brick layer to create a fireplace underneath the mantle, but the plans had never come through. Annabelle's mother was murdered and she was gone long before he'd even been contacted. She guessed Catherine thought it would be a lost cause to finish it.

A tear splashed onto the mantle, soaking a spot of dust.

Annabelle leaned against the mantle and let out, for the first time in a long time that she could recall, a stifled sob. She tried to bite her knuckles, to force herself to get a grip, but the memories of the room poured into her, and were begging her to let go of everything. To cry like she should have that night on the ship, when she first left Teague. When she first left home.

She was thankful when the door started to open behind her, because it gave her reason to dry her face with her shirt and take a deep breath. Now wasn't the time for tears.

"Anna!" Jameson called out, forcing himself away from Catherine, who was trying to hold him back. "We have to go!" The raucus outside seemed to have gotten much louder since she'd stepped into the hideaway room.

"Teague's here?" Annabelle sniffled what was left of her sob. She was fairly sure he was too preoccupied with talking to her to notice.

His brow furrowed deeply. "You could say that," Jameson replied ominously. Before Annabelle could question his cryptic answer, he grabbed her by the wrist and drug her from the room. "Come on, the bar's in a frenzy!"

Sure enough, the entire tavern was filled with a deafening uproar. People were smashing bottles over each other's heads, swinging bar stools and chairs, and if no prop was nearby, attempting to punch and kick each other's lights out. Annabelle stared with her mouth gaped open as Jameson led her through the thick mob.

"What's going on?" She yelled towards his ear as they made their way to the tavern doors.

"A man," Jameson huffed, "waltzed in after you left the room asking for someone named 'Dalton,'" he looked concerned into her eyes. They were steely, "No one replied, and I thought he might be a member of Teague's crew-"

Annabelle felt her face flush, "You didn't!"

"Take it easy!" Jameson punched a man running towards them with his free hand. The man, stunned, slammed down across the table behind them as they kept moving. Annabelle gaped at the fallen man. She had no idea he had that kind of a punch in him. "Of course I didn't," Jameson continued, "I figured it would have been too obvious a move for Teague's men so I stayed silent. Duck!" A bar stool leg flew at them, flying over their crouched heads.

"So what caused this mess?" Annabelle gave him a skeptical glance. Jameson sighed heavily, rising to his feet. He noticed the doors of the tavern looked safe to go through.

"Answers later, running now," Jameson breathed, kicking a fallen drunk aside as they made their exit.

"What about Catherine?" Annabelle tried to sneak a glance towards the main bar, but the crowd was too heavy to see past.

"I'm sure she's used to this sort of situation," Jameson offered as they ran past the doors and into the street, which was not nearly as loud or in as much of an uproar. There were still people brawling in the mud outside nonetheless, and a few shifty figures eyeing the two as they strode past. Annabelle nudged herself closer to Jameson as they paced through the streets. Jameson seemed to know where he was going.

"Here we go," He said, as they turned onto an alleyway. There were two rows of houses crammed so close together that Annabelle was sure you could have reached out of one's bedroom window and touched the bedpost in the other's house beside it. Jameson led her down the muddy street laying in between the two rows. "We're looking for the twelfth house on the left."

"Jameson," Annabelle's voice dropped slightly, "If you wouldn't mind explaining what in the world is going on I would be greatly appreciative-"

"After this guy asks the question and no one answers," Jameson picked up without a beat, his eyes never looking at Annabelle, but rather at the houses ahead of them, "Some other fellow stumbles into the bar, reeking of too much ale, walks right up to the questioning man and asks him if he knows the time." He paused and started recounting the doors they'd passed.

"And?" Annabelle wasn't seeing the point in the story, and was slightly irritated by his pauses.

"The man refused to answer, so the other guy knocked him out." Jameson said simply.

"What?" Annabelle angrily cried out.

Jameson threw her a quick, irritated glance, "Keep your voice down!"

"But that's it?" She lowered her voice, but not her intensity. "He just punched him?"

"Yes," Jameson rolled his eyes, smirking slightly, "You of all people should know it doesn't take that much to start a brawl in one of these taverns apparently."

Annabelle gave a pouty huff, her face falling, "Well that wasn't much of a story. And it doesn't explain why we're here. Next to," She stared at the house they were in front of. It was a dull fading white washed house, wooden shingles rotting from termites, "This house."

"I was getting to that," Jameson slowly opened the door, which was good in Annabelle's mind because any faster and he probably would have knocked it off its rotting hinges, "The man who punched the man asking for you came up to me, and told me that we were to come to the twelfth house on this street. The other pirates were rendevousing here, waiting for us."

The situation clicked into Annabelle's head. Her eyes widened, "Oh! So Teague sent the man to come and get us? Clever on his part to punch that one man before he found us first."

"Very true, except Teague didn't send our savior in this case." Jameson led Annabelle into the front room of the house, which was pitch black, save for the few candles lit on the staircase facing them, and on the table in what appeared to have once been a kitchen.

"I beg your pardon?" Annabelle felt a chill run down her calves into her feet.

A pair of leather boots softly tread beside them, causing Annabelle to whirl herself towards the staircase, only to stare as Jack Sparrow flashed them a golden grin.

He rested his arm on the railing, "Sorry to disappoint, love."


	24. A Homecoming to Stoke the Fires

No one that I know of gets the flu in the middle of summer..but apparently I do. That's mainly the reason for the hiatus from updating this so late. That, and my other story "Of Fate and Phoenix" has taken off, so I've been pretty dedicated to it. Luckily, I want to put up a few chapters for this Fourth of July weekend. Woohoo! (and I feel much better).

Thanks again to **nineteenninetytwo**. I'm glad you're glad (haha) that Jack's back! I am too! Though...whether Annabelle is or not...maybe another thing.

Note: I don't particularly like the way I did Jack in this chapter...I'm going to have to rewatch the movies to hopefully get his character back. But for the scene, I think it worked. I hope you can agree.

Enjoy this chapter,

Romania Black

Chapter Twenty-Four

"You-" Annabelle stared at the man walking towards them. It was no mistaking him; Jack Sparrow looked exactly as he had since she'd first met him almost nine years ago. His brown hat sat sideways on his head, and his crooked grin shown off the gold teeth in the lamplight, his loose fitting pirate clothes dusty and grimy. He swaggered alongside Jameson, resting his arm on top of his shoulder despite the fact that Jameson was slightly taller than Jack. Jameson didn't exactly react to the move; he was more stunned than anything.

"Good lad," Jack grinned towards Annabelle, "I didn't expect you to find your way here so-"

And it was Annabelle's fist that didn't allow him to finish the sentence, as she punched him the face so hard it sent him into the floor.

"What did you-" Jameson stammered, giving Annabelle a disturbing glance, and then staring at Jack, who was propped up on his elbows in the floor, rubbing his left cheek with his fingers.

"How _dare _you, Captain Jack Sparrow!" Annabelle yelled at him, her hands in fists, "I haven't seen a shred of you in three _years _and all of a sudden you decide to appear as if nothing was wrong?" She spit on his boot, "Who do you think you are?"

"Easy, Anna," Jameson gripped her shoulder, sending the captain a cautionary glance as he opened his mouth as if to speak.

"I don't think I will, Jameson," Annabelle gave him a quick, stern glance. She looked down at Jack, who had a mixed look of displeasure and mild amusement on his face. "I bet you didn't even recognize me," She glared.

"I'll admit I didn't upon first look," Jack agreed, sitting up. He was eyeing her with a hard gleam from the candlelight in his eyes, as if looking into her soul. Annabelle didn't flinch. "Then I saw who you were with," He nodded obviously to Jameson, "and put two and two together."

"And didn't you feel awful," Annabelle sneered.

Jack frowned, looked away, and then back to her, "Um, no."

Annabelle kicked him swiftly in the shin.

"Anna, stop it!" Jameson pushed her back away from the captain. "He's giving us a way out of here with a crew," he whispered into her ear as he pushed her away.

"Did he promise you that?" Annabelle frowned, her eyes blazing, "He's been known to break promises you know," she gave Jack an icy glare.

"Really, darling," Jack was slowly rising to his feet, staggering to and fro as he did, "You don't give me nearly enough credit. I orchestrated an entire brawl to deliver you and your dashing lad safely to this secure inhabitance-"

Annabelle and Jameson looked around the shack skeptically, then back to Jack, looking less than impressed.

"-and you try to beat the demons out of me. Hardly lady-like, Miss Dalton," Jack mused.

"I wouldn't exactly describe myself as a typical lady," Annabelle countered.

Jack looked as if he was about to retaliate, but then gave a quick look to Jameson and held out his hand to his open mouth, as if reconsidering. "I'll choose..._not_...to reply to that statement." He walked towards them, and Jameson placed himself in between the captain and the angry Annabelle, "Instead, let's focus on the here and now, shall we?"

"What about it?" Annabelle asked testily.

"I'm curious as if to say that your crew is," He paused, "A few men short of the full load, eh?" He glanced to Jameson, who nodded curtly. Jack pressed his hands together as if in prayer, "Ah. That's not going to get you off this darling spit of a rock-"

"Are you loaning us men for our crew?" Annabelle interrupted impatiently.

Jack stared at her, and then his face lit up with a gold-toothed grin, "Even better, darling. I'm sharing my crew with you as well as accompanying you on your voyage out."

It was Jameson's turn to react, "Why are you doing this Captain Sparrow?"

"And why should we accept," Annabelle added.

Jack's face gave a subtle turn towards grim, "Had a run in at Singapore lately?"

The two stared blankly at the captain.

"Lads on the ship claimed a few men were chatting with them in the docks earlier tonight," Jack continued, "Said that a ship sailing out of Singapore was questioning where a certain vessel that looked like yours," He glanced at Annabelle, "was heading."

Annabelle turned to Jameson, "But we agreed they were to leave us alone! Why follow us?"

Jameson shrugged, "These are pirates, Anna. They can change their minds at will." His face was frowning with contempt.

Jack stared at the boy, his face placed in a puzzled expression, as if he was trying to think of something. His gaze turned to Annabelle, "So you _have _had a run in at Singapore...interesting..."

"Jack," Annabelle cautioned.

"I'll have to hear all about it while we're sailing west," Jack continued with a happier note in his voice, pushing past the two and walking towards the door.

"What?" Annabelle stammered, stunned, "Jack!"

"Title!" Jack called out as he left the house.

Annabelle could have strangled him, had Jameson not been there to hold her arms back as they followed him. "...Captain Sparrow!" She called back to him, and he stopped in his tracks, a satisfied grin stuck to his face.

"Yes, love?"

"Where are you taking us? What's going on?"

Jack patted her shoulder, but distanced himself, afraid she would attempt to physically harm him again, "All in good time. As it stands, you and your men need a way out before said ship arrives to port to do who knows what with you." He stared at Jameson, "You are to follow our ship out of Tortuga," He grinned, "The winds are in our favor luckily enough. Granted it's a fast moving vessel, you should be able to keep up."

Jameson looked back at Jack with a confused expression.

Annabelle's hands were on her hips, "I'm curious as to why you're telling _him _this."

"Pardon?" Jack turned and his black braids swung at his shoulders. He looked Annabelle up and down and gears clicked in his mind. His face fell to a suddenly disappointed expression, "Don't tell me _you're _the Captain." Annabelle gave him a cold glare. "I would ask how a woman such as yourself persuaded your crew to allow that position," He looked her up and down quickly and then glanced at Jameson, "I assume it wasn't too difficult."

Jameson's face had a creeping pink tone to it as he looked away from the two.

"I didn't have to persuade anyone," Annabelle's eyes narrowed.

Jack twisted around as if to walk away, his eyes intently focused on Annabelle, "Keep telling yourself that, darling." He frowned slightly, "You remind me an awful lot of dear Ms. Turner-"

"I'd rather you not say her name in front of me," Annabelle objected, marching alongside him now. Jameson gave her a look, but said nothing.

Jack's frown slowly turned upward in a smirk, "Oh, not in the best of relations with the former Miss Swann?"

"You could say that," Annabelle huffed. After all, Elizabeth had left her practically for dead in that bar. She was certain that Mrs. Turner didn't give a gold coin about her well-being.

"Sorry to hear you're on the outs," Jack replied, but there was no sympathy in his voice. On the contrary, he actually sounded delighted by Annabelle's hatred of the woman.

She was about to let him know all about her lack of hospitality, but stopped herself. She was not about to carry on a conversation with him that would offend Jameson as well. Annabelle was still mad at Jack for his years of not keeping his promise to her, but she realized if she was going to travel with him, she needed to act her age. This wasn't exactly the time to hold grudges. Then again, it wasn't the time to let them go either.

By the time they reached the docks, the moon was high in the air, shining brightly overhead. Annabelle could see The _White Gunner _against the edge of the bay, its plank down and men rusing with barrels and ropes to the ship. _Looks like he didn't get the Black Pearl back yet, _Annabelle mused silently to herself, somewhat satisfied at the captain's ongoing search. His men were hoisting bags, that Annabelle assumed were filled with money and gold, into the hull. Everyone was looking ready to leave Tortuga as soon as possible. She looked to see where her own ship was, but to her surpise she didn't have to look but to the right of Jack's ship. The _Lady Agira _was floating safely against the docks, its small crew apparently trading and acquainting itself with Jack's.

Annabelle looked towards the captain as they approached the two ships. "You knew we'd agree?" It seemed as if he already had everything ready to go.

"I knew you were smart," Jack offered cryptically in reply.

The trio were greeted by a tall thin man that Annabelle instantly recognized from her childhood. She smiled, the first smile since she'd been with Jack. The Captain noticed this, and gave Annabelle a frown she couldn't see. Jameson stared at the two with silent thoughtfulness.

"Mr. Regetti!" Annabelle's grin widened.

The thin pirate eyed her with both his real and glass eye and then turned to the captain, "This can't be her," His face amazed. Jack nodded with an annoyed expression. Regetti shook her hand almost violently, "Miss, 's a pleasure to see you again. You done grown up into a propah lady 'n all." His face turned to Jameson, "Cap'n, he looks just like-"

"We are in haste, Master Regetti," Jack scolded him, shuffling them along. "Get to the brig and summon Mr. Gibbs."

"Aye, Captain," Regetti turned to leave them, still staring at Jameson curiously.

Many of the crew members were some that Annabelle didn't recognize. She turned to stare at her own ship. Jack noticed her looking back at the _Lady Agira_ and leaned in towards her,

"I forgot you were a captain of your own," He smiled slightly, "Needing to go to your ship?" His voice had a trace of amusement in it.

"The both of us do," Annabelle gripped Jameson's arm, to which the young man didn't object, but rather tightened the grip with his elbow.

Jack pretended not to notice. Mr. Gibbs, stumbling with a half-empty bottle in his hands staggered towards them. It appeared as if his trip in Tortuga had a been a festivous one.

"Captain," Gibbs took a large swig of what looked to Annabelle like rum, "Crew's nearly set to sail. Did you find the captain of the other ship-" He stopped in his tracks when he saw Annabelle and Jameson.

"When have I failed at locating anything?" Jack offered without any of his usual humor. He seemed uneasy or impatient about something, as far as Annabelle could tell. He wasn't his usual self.

"Captain," Gibbs started, an awe in his voice. "Miss Dalton?" He whispered.

"I wouldn't forget you Mr. Gibbs, sir," Annabelle gave him a gentle smile. She'd always liked Gibbs, despite his habits.

"Aye, you're no longer miniature," Gibbs noted, giving her a crooked smile. His eyes darted to Jameson, looking graver, "Mary mother of God, is that-?"

"You'd best get back to your ship," Jack gave Annabelle a slight sneer, as if her commanding a ship was a joke.

"Are you mocking me, Captain Sparrow?" She shot him a sneer back.

"Beg pardon, but _you're _the Captain?" Gibbs chimed in, pointing in disbelief at Annabelle.

The young woman grabbed Jameson to steer him away from the two, her voice laced with anger, "Don't worry, Mr. Gibbs, you're ship is free of bad luck." She turned and exited the plank of Jack's ship, Jameson arm in arm with her as they walked to the _Lady Agira. _She looked up at him; Jameson looked very unpleasant about being addressed multiple times in this fashion. Annabelle couldn't blame him, but didn't know what the fuss was about.

"Should we trust him on all this?" She tried to change the subject. She had always been fond of Jack, but his recent lack of faithfulness had made her realize perhaps he wasn't the man she'd grown up knowing and idolizing.

"Would Jack lead us astray?" Jameson asked after a moment's silence. It seemed he wanted her honest opinion.

Annabelle thought about this. _No, surely Jack wouldn't_, she decided. He may be a low, dog of a man who broke promises to visit her, but he would never place her or Jameson in harm's way. At least not like this; it wasn't his style.

"I think we're safe," Annabelle finally replied.

"I've heard enough about him from mother," Jameson glanced down at her, "We need to be on our guard." Elizabeth had told him all about Jack Sparrow and his adventures with her and his father. It didn't make him trust the captain with utmost devotion.

"We'll be fine," Annabelle released his arm but squeezed his hand for a split moment. Jameson stared at the gesture. "Let's get the crew assembled. We need to leave as soon as possible."

He looked up at her, deciding to accept the squeeze, but not question it. "Aye," He grinned slyly, "Captain."

_**Ah, sorry for taking so long with this! I hope to have the next chapter up soon! Happy Fourth of July weekend!**_

_**Romania Black**_


	25. The Former Abode of an Old Acquaintance

Sorry for the long hiatus in between chapters, but my other fanfiction, "Of Fate and Phoenix" seems to be taking up most of my time...and I didn't have the motivation to write this chapter. But, for the sake of school starting and my schedule becoming ridiculous again, I'm going to try and stay motivated for this chapter. (Plus I'm watching Dead Man's Chest while writing this, so if that's not motivation, I don't know what is!)

Special thanks goes out to **nineteennintytwo**! Argh, I did spell Ragetti wrong didn't I? Blast. I will try harder ^^. Also, Thank you so much! I don't know about the best ever, but it thrills me that you thought my Jack was decent. Bwahaha,

Finally, this chapter has some fun things happening plot wise, so I hope you like it!

Enjoy this chapter,

Romania Black

Chapter Twenty-Five

The ocean was rocky for the first hour or two sailing off from Tortuga; A storm gathering and pushing a front of gray clouds and hailing rain upon them. Luckily, the _Lady Agira_ and the _White Gunner _were hardy vessels, and could manage the pelting downpour. As the voyage carried on another three hours, the ship slowly grew to balance on the rapidly calming sea. Annabelle kept a steady eye from the mast as Jameson stood behind her, the crew tending to the ship's sails and wheel.

"The storm's seemed to pass," Jameson observed, glancing at the dark sky above. Annabelle looked up as well and saw the dark ominous clouds had started to clear; thousands of tiny stars blotting the blackened sky.

"The storm followed us out of Tortuga, but the ship following us will probably have to sail through it," Anna said quietly, mostly to herself, "Jack told us we have the faster ships, so we should be fine."

"I honestly don't know how he'd have that information," Jameson's eyes narrowed, looking agitated. His frown made him seem older, more mature than his age. Annabelle tried not to smile; it was natural he didn't trust Captain Sparrow based on what Elizabeth had told him. _But he doesn't know Jack like I do, _Annabelle smirked.

"Trust me, he's found out through someone," She rested a hand on the crease of his elbow, to which Jameson looked down at the gesture with a blank expression, "He may be unreliable at times, and completely asinine as well, but Jack wouldn't lead us astray." Her eyes darkened a touch, "At least not when he has other plans for us as well."

Jameson's cold expression warmed slightly, the corners of his mouth rising gradually, "Sounds to me like you still distrust him a little."

Annabelle smiled, "There's one thing you have to know about Jack," She looked up into his dark eyes, "He always has the best intentions. But he also always has alterior motives to everything he does."

Their ships sailed in a parade against the black and silver current, until the waters started to merge, the calm waters toppling over each other like two men wrestling for a prize. The ships rocked on the rapids, barely wide enough for each ship, until they reached its delta; a pooling pond shallow enough for them to easily anchor their vessels amidst the withering swamp willows.

"_Eerie_," was the only word Annabelle could gather to describe it, the mast tangled in black hair-like vines. "What is this place?"

"Beats me, love," Jameson replied quietly, his eyes scanning the various marsh plants around them. "'Suppose Jack's been here before?"

"He must have," Annabelle frowned, as if the answer seemed obvious, "Why else would he have come here?"

* * *

It was Captain Jack Sparrow that came to meet Annabelle and Jameson on a small spit of muddy marshland in front of both their ships. He trudged through the murky waters in his leather boots, splashing as he approached them, his swagger more pronounced in his step.

"Where's Mr. Gibbs?" Annabelle raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed at her chest, looking narrowedly at the Captain.

Jack cocked his head up to stare at her indignantly, "Is that any way to greet a fellow captain, darling?" He placed a hand on his hat to steady it, "For your charming information, Mr. Gibbs is in charge of watching the ship in my absence."

"Why?" Annabelle smirked, "Afraid of losing another ship?"

Jameson instantly turned to give her a warning look, "Anna-!"

There was a gun in Jack's hand, but it wasn't pointed at Annabelle, though the struggling grip of the Captain suggested that it was taking all his effort not to. "Should you feel inclined to know the truth, Missy Dalton," Jack struggled through gritted teeth, "Mr. Gibbs is the first mate, and the first mate stays with the ship in the Captain's absence." He managed a grin at her dumbed expression, "Or did they not teach you that in Captain's class?"

Annabelle forced her face away as her cheeks flushed pink. Jack's grin grew wider as he patted her shoulder, walking further into the marsh.

"Where are you going, Captain Sparrow?" Jameson called out to him.

"Further in, lad," Jack answered cryptically, "Unless you think we came here merely to sight-see?" He turned his head, inclining to the two young sailors, as if to request them to follow.

"Come on," Annabelle brushed past Jameson, her face still flustered. The two followed him into the darkness of the willows and vines around them.

Jameson stared at Captain Sparrow's back as they walked, his brown eyes focused on the pirate intently. He spoke to Annabelle without altering his gaze, "Why do you suppose we're taking this twisted path?" He said this as they turned another corner in the swamp. Their path hadn't exactly been straight forward into the bleak marsh; in fact, they'd altered their course several times to snake through the dense weeds, "Why not go onward as the crow flies?"

"Because we'd be dead like the crow, Master Turner," Jack's voice called out in an annoyed fashion, making Jameson's face pale. "This path allows us to avoid the deeper waters."

"And just what," Annabelle picked up the end of her skirt and sloshed forward, "Are we going towards, Captain?" She was now side by side with him, staring into his khol-lined eyes.

"Answer me this first, love," Jack inquired with a wave of his hand, "Just why did you allow your own first mate to venture with us? Have you considered the possibility your faithful men will abandon you and your bonny l-lad?" He rephrased his last word and gave her a serious stare.

Annabelle gave him a incredulous stare, "Pardon me, Captain, but that would be under one, the circumstance that Jameson was my first mate," to this Jack's eyes widened, "And two, the circumstance that my ship wasn't protected by alterior forces." Now his stare was more of curiosity and bewilderment, so Annabelle felt the need to explain further, "Your father, Jack," The captain's eyes grew wider still, but did not seem surprised.

"Is that so?" Jack turned his gaze to look forward, avoiding her eyes.

"Yes," Annabelle rolled her eyes, frustrated he wasn't affected by her words, "I'm quite happy at least someone's inclined to keep their promises to me."

"Really darling," Jack's boot arose out of the swamp, a suction sound croaking as he lifted his foot to step on what Annabelle surprisingly only now saw was a wooden step. "Sometimes I find myself believing you have no faith in me at all."

Through the mist and gray waters, the fog cleared enough to where the wooden ladder Jack had stepped upon was now fully visible. The ladder connected to a shack of a wooden villa, seemingly held up by the dense air itself. Annabelle and Jameson both looked at each other as if to ask if either had seen the hut there before.

"Captain..." Annabelle's voice trailed off.

"How did you know where this was?" Jameson asked as the Captain started to climb the ladder.

"When you've been somewhere as much as I have before," Jack grunted, looking for a moment at the young man, "You remember such things as location, lad." He gave his head a nod upwards, motioning them to follow him. Annabelle and Jameson looked at each other again, both silently deciding to trust the Captain thus far.

The villa was eerily silent as Jack opened the door, the wood creaking as several cobwebs fell onto the dusty floor. Annabelle and Jameson shuffled into the space behind Jack, the door closing awkwardly behind them.

The inside of the shack was cluttered with knick knacks, cabinets filled with artifacts of strange design. This was visible only because of the dimly lit candles casting a creepy orange glow throughout the main room of the hut. _Witchcraft, _Annabelle grimaced. It looked as if someone had once been steadily cleaning the inside, but had recently quit; the dust gathering in clumps on the floor, and a few small shoots of green starting to snarl up from the floorboards.

"What is this place?" Annabelle glanced at a glass jar hanging beside her head. It was filled with eyeballs. _Real _eyeballs.

"The former residence of able-bodied, and highly avoided yet sought after spiritual entity Tia Dalma," Jack looked about the inside with a sudden timid nature, to suggest that touching anything would cause bodily harm.

"Who?" Annabelle asked with a furrowed brow. She turned to Jameson, thinking he would have the same reaction; to her surprise he did not. He looked instead as if someone had fed him spoiled fish.

"Never you mind," Jack was eyeing the shed skin of a white cornsnake that lay near a rusted grandfather's clock, "She's neither here nor gone. The thing of importance here," Jack meandered through the clustered room, eyeing trinkets on a table, before looking into the darkness ahead, where candles were not lit, "comes from what's been left."

"Stop speaking in riddles, Captain Sparrow," Jameson growled, his brown eyes angry.

"Yes," A voice came from the darkness, cool and as smooth as black rum. Annabelle spun around, her eyes dancing in the candlelight. "Please quit speaking in tongues, Jackie," the voice cooed.

"Captain Teague!" Annabelle rushed forward, past both a puzzled Jameson and Jack, who gave her a grouchy, disgruntled look. "You're here."

"Aye, Annie," Teague took a graceful stride into the candlelight, his black mustache complimenting his devilish grin. He patted her shoulder, "I see you made it out Singapore," His dark eyes scanned Jameson's face silently, "Without hitch."

"Yes, but I thought you were following us to Tortuga," Annabelle quietly protested, standing beside him. Even much older than her, they were almost the same height.

"I intended to see you off," Teague replied coarsely, his eyes traveling to his son, who was looking away at a shell portrait on the wall, "'Cept I was called here to Tia Dalma's...by Jackie."

"What?" Annabelle scoffed, her angry eyes focused on Captain Sparrow, "And just when were you going to tell me this?"

"When was it imperative that I did?" Jack shot back, spinning in place.

"Why are we here?" Jameson asked in a frustrated huff, his eyes rolling.

"Ah," Jack took this opportunity to take control of the conversation once more, "We are here," He gave his father an unsettled glance, "Due to the strange nature of this residence's current occupant."

Annabelle gave him a confused look, her mouth pursed, "You just said this Tia Dalma had passed away, didn't you?"

"And that was years ago," Jameson added grimly. Annabelle and Teague both shot a silent stare his direction. Jack smirked,

"True, lad, the deity of the sea has indeed returned to her watery abode," Jack mused a finger near the dripping wax of a candle beside him, "But shortly after her departure from this green earth, the home we bear foot in now was occupied by another spiritually inclined presence-"

"Layman's terms, Jack," Annabelle impatiently cut in.

"-meaning," Jack lifted the candle and led them towards the back, unlit, room. Annabelle followed, Teague and Jameson inches behind, "Another mystic was living here for a fair few years after the death of Lady Dalma."

The candle lit up the area in front of Jack and Annabelle, showing visibly the makings of a bed; covered in molding vines, Annabelle leaned forward over Jack's shoulder to see what was on the bed. The vines connected to a pair of legs, bound together by rope. To her displeasure the legs seemed to be starting to swell, purple and blue. Without control, her eyes darted to the left, the rotting legs connected to swollen yet bony hands tied together with rope, then to the skeletal neck, then to the neck that was slit in half. The head lay decapitated on the pillow; the eyes rotted out of the skull, and the mouth gaped open in horror-

"Guhh!" Annabelle gagged and fell back from Jack's shoulder, her eyes shutting in terror. Jack frowned and looked back at her.

Jameson's eyes were wide with disgust, "What...what happened here?"

"'Pears the Madame was bound," Teague pointed matter-of-factly to the bed, "Taken head off, seems."

"Why?" Jameson eyed the body.

"Wait," Annabelle choked, lifting her head back up to stare hesitantly over Jack's shoulder, "Teague, you said...The Madame?" She forced herself to stare at the face, twisted in agony. Despite the eyes gone, and the face starting to rot at the cheek with the nose completely gone; it was no doubt the face she had seen years ago as a child. "It is her-err, was."

"Wouldn't have had you follow me out here," Jack muttered, his eyes narrowed on the woman's corpse, "But I gandered it'd serve you better to follow me out here as to try and outrun whatever's following you."

Teague stared at Jack with a curious gleam in his dark eyes. Jameson peered at the woman on the bed, his eyes turning to Jack and Annabelle, "Why did you want to come here? Did you expect to find this?"

"We've been trying to contact the Madame for months," Jack answered, sighing in mild frustration at the task of exposition. "It was only until a few weeks ago we entertained the possibility of something like this happening."

Annabelle glanced up at Jack, _Why are Teague and Jack working together?_

"I see," Jameson stated bluntly.

"So what then?" Annabelle straightened, her back to Jack, staring to Teague, "What do we do now?"

"You two should make for land," Teague motioned to Jameson and Annabelle, "Twas dangerous having you here in the first place. Two ships is an easy target."

"Clever planning, _Captain_," Annabelle shot Jack a dirty look, as he looked unaffected by the fact that they were in danger.

"Why thank you, _Captain_," Jack smiled a gold-toothed grin in reply.

"Come, let's leave this room," Jameson gave a disgusted last glance at the rotting corpse, "Annabelle's face is greener than these murky depths." The female captain gave him a stifling glance; not wanting to admit that she was feeling sick against the smell of the rotting flesh.

"Very well," Teague nodded, moving towards the candlelight.

Annabelle grasped the side of Jameson's arm, "Thank you," She whispered near his ear.

"Not at all, love," Jameson smiled faintly, looking down at her.

Jack looked mildly nautious himself at the scene, "Yes, let us move clear of this bag of bones, bless her soul," He quickly added, bowing curtly to the body, "and rid our sails of these accursed swamps." His glance briefly gave attention to Teague, "I'm sure you've found all needed?"

"Aye," Teague quietly nodded, drawing himself to the door, "Take care, Annie," He tilted his dark head to give her a gentlemanly nod, "Best be seeing you sooner next time."

"Of course, Captain," Annabelle smiled, as Teague left. She listened to his footsteps as they echoed down the wooden ladder, splashed into the murky swamp, and faded from ears-length. There was a moment of silence, as she watched Jack grab a few trinkets off the dusty table, as Jameson stared at him with mild contempt. She almost laughed at the sight, before a small rumble below her feet distracted her amusement. _What was that? _"Jameson," She came up beside him, her hand clasped on his forearm, "Did you feel something just now?"

"No," Jameson tore his eyes from Jack's theft to give Annabelle a curious look, "What was it?"

"I don't know," Anna replied simply, her eyes scanning the floor around them, "I just felt a small vibration-Jameson," She suddenly stated, her green eyes frozen. _What on earth-_

"What?" The young Blacksmith leaned over to stare at her, Jack still stealing trinkets off the shelves, "What is it?"

"We're on stilts-I mean, this villa is above the water, correct?" Annabelle's eyes were locked in place, staring in horror straight in front of her.

"Well...yes, to my knowledge we are," Jameson cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Annabelle felt her heart in her chest pounding._ It wasn't possible; and then_..."We need to leave here. Now." She said gravely, her face paling.

"Love, what are you babbling about?" Jack finally turned from taking trinkets and gave the girl an unimpressed glance. "Seriously, love, this is a most unfortunate time to be having fits of fear regarding how high up we are-"

"Captain, what pray tell is that?" Annabelle pointed a shaking finger forward, her pale face practically the color of her eyes. Both Jameson and Jack followed her finger to see what she was motioning towards.

It was a tentacle; an enormous purple tentacle that was slithering on the side of the shack's wall like a snake waiting to devour its prey. The tentacle coiled around one of the legs of the table.

Jack looked up at Annabelle, his eyes suddenly wide in both surprise and unexpected fear. "That, my love, is the reason we need to leave immediately."

"I thought the same," Annabelle nodded, and the tree took off towards the door.

A loud burst cracked behind them, and the boards sprung up; splintering the wood below them and causing the walls to start to buckle on either side of them. The wood squeaked and groaned as they ran across it. Jack was the first out the door, soaring down into the murky waters. Jameson jumped second, Annabelle following short behind. The three landing into the dirty water with a loud conjoined splash. She didn't stay under hardly any time at all, rising and gasping for air as her and Jack and Jameson surfaced; their faces grimy and slick.

"Go straight to land!" He shouted. Luckily land was directly beside them.

Annabelle and Jameson both scurried to the escape towards the mud, their hands slipping as they tried to gain traction by digging fingers into the black soil. Everything was happening at a faster-than-normal pace; Annabelle only had time to look back, glancing at the giant squid-like creature tearing apart the villa piece by piece as if it was a paper doll.

Annabelle was instantly cold, but glad she had made it out alive alongside Captain Sparrow and her friend. Feeling a sudden gust of wind on her backside, she grimaced; Jameson grabbing her by the shoulder and leading her into the woods where the beast could not follow.

"What the Bloody Hell was that just now?" Jameson whispered, his eyes looking down at Annabelle with a terrified and bewildered expression.

Annabelle lay her head against his arm, her eyes wide and still frozen open, "I hope I never find out."

_**Sorry if this was sloppy at the end, but I hope you liked it!**_

_**Next chapter to come soon!**_

_**Happy weekend,**_

_**Romania Black**_


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